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THE SHOWER STOPPED, SO SHE GAVE SELIM THE REIN, 
LETTING HIM CLIMB THE HILL AT HIS EASE ” 




. 

■ i- - : 

m 




THE HEART OF HOPE 


BY 

NORVAL RICHARDSON 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
WALTER H. EVERETT 


NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
1905 


LIBRARY of GONSRESS 

Two Copies rtecavtfci 

MAR 29 1905 


CopyriKnc tiiuy 

//fcu .T-fr/W 

OUtSS /} XXc. Woi 



Copyright, 1905 , 

BY 

Dodd, Mead & Company 


Published , March 


Prologue 

BOOK ONE 

PAGE 

1 

Awakening 

BOOK TWO 

17 

Heart of Hope 

BOOK THREE 

97 

Meeting 

BOOK FOUR 

157 

Suspense 

BOOK FIVE 

245 

Recognition 

BOOK SIX 

309 

Peace 

BOOK SEVEN 

351 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


44 The shower stopped, so she gave 
Selim the rein, letting him climb 

THE HILL AT HIS EASE ” Frontispiece 


44 4 Robbing you?’ she answered 

QUICKLY, HER ANGER RISING IN- 
STANTLY ” Facing page 122 

Silas planting the flag 46 44 1 88 


/ 

/ 


44 4 What if he were wounded, 
father ? ’ Agatha insisted ” 


“ 248 


44 Then the candle slipped from 
her hand, and she fell to 

THE FLOOR ” 



44 318 














BOOK ONE 



Prologue 


















I 


TWELVE slow strokes from the high clock tower 
rang out above the roar of the thunder. A flash of 
lightning lit up the dismal night. 

The long street was deserted. From one end, 
where the bridge crossed the bayou, to the other, 
shut in by a high hill crowned with a huge, castel- 
lated building, the unbroken row of store fronts 
was dark and gloomy. The barred windows were 
black recesses filled with potent shadows. In the per- 
spective made by the even fronts of the buildings, the 
river shone in the flashes of lightning. The lights 
had long been extinguished, and the whole place had 
settled down to quiet and sleep. 

As the last sound of the clock died away, a man 
crept stealthily along the street in the shadow of the 
buildings. He had come from the hill beyond the 
town, running rapidly until he reached the bridge. 
At the foot of the long street he stopped and listened 
intently ; only the rolling echoes of the thunder broke 
3 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


the sultry stillness. He looked carefully about him, 
and then crept noiselessly along. 

Presently he stopped before a large brick building, 
which stood on a corner. No glimmer of light showed 
on its silent exterior. The heavy barred windows 
and the dust and dirt about the door showed the lack 
of caretaker or occupant. A broken piece of iron 
railing across the stone steps added a note of deser- 
tion to the gloomy pile. Even in daylight people 
passed it with averted faces and hurried footsteps. 
It had long been the habitation of a band of gam- 
blers, the offscourings of every town along the banks 
of the river. Other places had driven them out, until 
their numbers had gradually diminished to a company 
of ten. Their evil deeds had aroused the citizens of 
the town, but, though ordered by the police to leave, 
they had remained, defying both threats and legal 
authority. 

The man crept into the shadow of the steps and 
waited. After a while he raised himself to a window 
near the door, and putting his mouth close to the 
heavy shutters gave a low whistle. Then sinking 
back into the darkness he lay flat against the 
ground. 


4 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Presently a squeaking sound came from behind the 
shutters — the sound of long unused, rusty hinges — 
and a face peered out between the slats. 

The man rose quickly and stood close to the win- 
dow. He spoke in a low, distinct whisper. “They 
are coming in half an hour. You must leave at once 
while everything is quiet. There’s no use trying to 
resist, for the whole town is aroused. Don’t let them 
take you by surprise.” 

The shutter was closed stealthily from the inside, 
and the informer dropped to the pavement, again. 

A policeman strolled up the street and passed 
calmly on into the distance. 

The shutter opened again. A voice came from be- 
hind it. “ Where are we to go? Have you any plans 
for our escape? ” 

“ There are two skiffs tied at the foot of the hill 
just across the bridge. Don’t go there yet. The 
river bank is being watched closely. Better try the 
cave. Your men know the way.” 

“How about the boy?” the voice asked eagerly. 
“ Did you get him? ” 

“Yes, and another one, too. They are gagged 
and tied in the cave now.” 


5 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“Good.” The man behind the shutter dropped a 
gold piece into the other’s outstretched hand. “ We’ll 
see if Windom will start another town against us. 
This will fix him.” 

The shutter began to close softly. 

“ Wait a minute,” the man from the outside whis- 
pered. 

“ Well, hurry up. We haven’t much time.” 

“ I’ll stay here until the men have gone. How 
many are there ? ” 

“ Ten.” 

“ If you get to the cave first and have any trouble, 
look for an iron slab at the far end. It covers an 
opening which leads to the bayou. You can crawl 
all the way out; I tried it to-day.” 

He dropped back from the window and lay down 
near the steps. A few minutes passed, and the door 
slowly opened. A man came out on the steps and 
looked carefully up and down the street. Then he 
turned back and called softly into the building. 
After a low consultation he ran swiftly down the 
steps, closely followed by several others. They fled 
down the street noiselessly, their bared feet making 
no sound against the brick pavement. 

6 


THE HEART *OF HOPE 

When the last one had come out the man in the 
shadow of the steps rose to his feet and looked 
intently along the deserted street. The flying figures 
were lost in the stormy darkness. Taking the oppo- 
site direction he ran swiftly around the corner of the 
building. 

Suddenly the doors of a nearby building were 
thrown open and a crowd of men rushed down the 
street. They came rapidly on, the pistols in their 
hands flashing in the intermittent lightning. 

The man stopped, undecided. They were near 
enough to see him now. There was nothing left him 
but to run for his life. As he turned the corner a 
shower of bullets fell about him. He stopped sud- 
denly and leaned against the wall for support, blood 
gushing from a wound in his head. A man from the 
crowd sprang forward and knocked him down in 
spite of his fierce resistance. He gripped his antag- 
onist with fury, at the same time drawing a knife 
from his pocket. There was a crunching sound as 
the blade passed through his antagonist’s body and 
scraped on the brick beneath. 

When the rest of the men reached them, both were 
lying still, their faces turned towards the dark sky. 
7 


THE 


H E A »R T 


O F 


HOPE 


A cry of anger and despair came from the crowd, but 
there was no answer; their friend and leader was 
dead. 

In a moment the door of the house was broken 
down. Fierce yells of disappointment came from the 
inside when the men found the house empty and saw 
that their foes had escaped. As they came out of 
the place they crowded about the wounded and 
unconscious gambler and dragged him into the middle 
of the street. The dead man had been carried to a 
nearby house. 

“Make him speak, he is not dead,” a man cried, 
flashing a lantern into the gambler’s blood-stained 
face. “ Make him tell where the others have 
gone.” 

A flask of whiskey was produced and the crowd 
waited impatiently for the fellow to regain conscious- 
ness. In a few minutes he opened his eyes and 
stared about. The glaring faces, the looks of fury, 
the pistol at his head precluded hope. He must 
tell what he knew or die. The wild faces closed 
about him. They waited breathlessly for his words. 
“They have gone to the cave back of Windom’s 
house.” 


8 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


A sudden tremor passed over his whole body; he 
felt numb and cold. He raised himself a little. 

“ Save the boys,” he gasped and fell back. “ They 
are in the cave, too.” 

The men looked at each other questioningly. 


9 


II 


THE earthen walls of the cave shone damp and 
mouldy in the glimmer of the flickering candles. 
Flashes of lightning showed through the small open- 
ing; the roar of the thunder sounded distant and 
soft. 

A group of men had already thrown themselves in 
a circle on the ground and were playing cards. The 
fascination of their profession deadened their senses 
to the surrounding peril. 

Two children lay in the shadow, bound together 
with a heavy rope. Their arms and feet were tied 
so that they could not move. Their mouths had been 
forced open and gagged with pieces of wood. A 
man sat beside them, regarding them intently with an 
expression of satisfaction. He lifted his head and 
laughed hoarsely. The harsh sound startled the men 
intent upon their game. 66 What is it, Gordon ? ” one 
of them asked, looking up at him. 

“ Nothing — only this luck. My God, boys, do you 
know this will just wreck that scoundrel Windom’s 
10 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

life. We’re quits now. He has tried to ruin me at 
every turn ; I swore I’d get even somehow or kill him. 
But this will be better still. I have taken his child 
away from him and he will never see him again.” 

“But what are you doing with two of them? 
Windom only has one son? ” the other fellow asked. 

“Oh, that’s some of Newton’s work. He didn’t 
know which was the right one, so he took them both.” 

“Do you know which is Windom’s child?” 

“No, but I’ll get them both out of the way just 
to be sure.” He laughed harshly again. 

A vivid flash of lightning illumined the cave. 
The whole place reverberated with thunder. Sud- 
denly a man sprang through the opening, falling 
headlong in his haste. The game broke up and the 
men crowded around him, consternation and fear 
written on all their faces. 

“It’s all up,” he said. “Newton told where we 
were hid. They are in sight of the cave now. 
What ’ll we do? ” 

The man beside the children picked them up 
quickly, and carried them into the deep shadow at 
the end of the cave. The darkness hid them entirely 
from the others. He stooped and lifted a heavy iron 
11 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


slab from the ground and let the two children drop 
gently into the opening. He listened intently for 
the dull thud and then returned to his companions. 
They were standing in a group near the opening 
and listening earnestly to the voices of their pusurers, 
who were evidently consulting as to the best plan of 
action. 

“ We’re in for it,” said Gordon in a whisper. 
“ Shoot the first man that enters.” 

A heavy step sounded in front of the cave and 
the dark figure of a man stood before them. As they 
fired simultaneously he dropped without a word. An 
answering fire of bullets came from the outside, and 
the gamblers fell back against the walls of the cave, 
waiting for the expected rush. But it did not come. 
The man’s body had been dragged away from the 
opening and outside all was still. 

The moments passed slowly. The men had blown 
out the candles, and stood in utter darkness, scarcely 
breathing. The intense silence was finally broken 
by the chopping of wood and the sound of snapping 
planks. Something was evidently being built in 
front of the opening. The men looked at each other 
in terror. The thought that they were to be buried 
12 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


alive, sealed up in the earthen walls, blanched their 
rough faces. They stood undecided. Something 
had to be done at once. 

The crackling sound of fire came to them, and 
they knew they were to be forced out of their hiding- 
place by the burning heat. 

The man who had laughed over the boys slipped 
back again to the end of the cave and crawled into 
the opening. As he disappeared into the black 
depths he pulled the iron slab carefully back in 
place. 

The fire grew rapidly in front of the opening. 
The bright glare penetrated into the cave, lighting 
up every comer of the gloomy place. Then followed 
a dense cloud of smoke. The air became sickening, 
suffocating. The nine men groped about helplessly. 
Finally, gathering close together, they uttered a wild 
yell and rushed out into the blazing roar of the fire. 


13 


Ill 


THE storm broke with all its fury upon the town. 
The rain came down in solid sheets. The lightning 
flashed incessantly, followed by heavy crashes of thun- 
der. The night became blacker and more opaque. 

A man was walking slowly up and down along the 
bank of the river. He could not see the water; only 
the rushing sound of the wind-tossed waves made him 
know where he was. He had been searching for the 
skiff for hours, walking along the steep bank and 
peering down into the black abyss; but he could see 
nothing. 

He returned to the two children where they lay 
against a log near the bank and examined them 
closely. They lay perfectly still, breathing in short, 
quick gasps. 

The man turned away from them again, and slid 
down the steep bank. His feet touched the water, 
and he groped along slowly, feeling for the boat. 

He walked a long distance, and had begun to 
retrace his steps when a clanking sound attracted his 
14 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

attention. He followed the direction of the noise 
and soon had his hand on the chain which held the 
boat. Climbing back up the bank he lifted the two 
boys in his arms, carried them down to the boat, and 
placed them in the bottom of it. Then unfastening 
the boat, he pushed it out into the water, and jumped 
aboard. 

The water surged beneath them. On all sides, 
wrapping them about, and shutting out all else, was 
the wild, raging storm. 


15 




BOOK TWO 



Awakening 



I 


THE mortars were resting from their night’s work. 
A few moments of quiet had come at last. The ter- 
rific, crashing noise, the shrill whistling of the Par- 
rott shells, the thundering echoes reverberating down 
the valleys, had gradually died away, and the morn- 
ing came gently, beautifully resplendent, as if spring 
were not to be interrupted in its message of hope — 
in its spirit of holiness and peace. 

Agatha opened the hall door, and coming out on 
the broad porch, stood between the tall Doric col- 
umns in the cool shadows which the rising sun had 
not yet found. 

Before her stretched a broad brick walk, bordered 
on both sides with smoothly trimmed box. At the 
end, through the gate in the high brick wall, she 
could see the uneven country road shining brightly 
in the morning sun, and beyond it, where the ground 
rose higher, a dense mass of trees — a small forest of 
beeches — which shut out the horizon from her vision. 

The house was a large, square building of red 
19 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


brick, with classic porches running across both the 
front and back. The white columns and the quiet 
shade of the brick gave the place an appearance of 
solidity — of permanence ; while the green of the lawn, 
the surrounding vine-covered wall, the garden with 
its mass of bright colour, made of it in a true sense, 
a home. 

Agatha glanced about her. The sky shone bright 
and sparkling as if made of blue enamel. The trees 
were pale green, the new delicious colour that comes 
with the early spring. The grass was like velvet, 
and the morning dew upon it suggested a silk veil 
stretched lightly across. 

As her senses became accustomed to the quiet, the 
beauty of the early morning hour made Agatha lift 
up her head and breathe in the cool, pure air, and 
the fragrance of the honeysuckle that climbed on the 
garden wall. 

Descending the steps lightly she walked down to 
the garden gate, and passing through stood by the 
side of the road. It stretched out on either side of 
her in a broken, zigzag line on the ridge of the long 
hill upon which the house stood. 

Lifting her skirts out of the dust, she picked her 
20 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


way carefully across the road and went directly on, 
into the dark shadows of the beeches. She passed 
quickly through the gloom, disturbing now and then 
a squirrel, that ran off, scampering across the 
branches, snapping here and there a twig, which 
made a startling sound in the stillness. Coming out 
suddenly upon the brow of a huge hill she threw her- 
self upon the ground and resting her back against 
one of the sturdy old trees gazed out upon the scene 
before her. 

From side to side, and as far as the eye could 
reach, lay a vast wilderness of level country, an 
unbroken flat stretch of dull green through which 
a wide river curved. Beginning almost on the hori- 
zon, like a small silver thread, and making two bends, 
it rounded a thickly wooded peninsula and swept 
with full force against the hill, passing rapidly on 
until it was lost in the distance, where the town 
nestled on the hills amid the trees. 


21 


II 


AGATHA smiled upon the scene. It had greeted 
her every morning of her life for twenty years. The 
river was her daily companion, and the wonder of it, 
its breadth and depth, still held for her a world of 
interest — a world peopled by her imagination, her 
dreams, rather than her experiences. She had spoken 
aloud to it her hopes and ambitions, and it repre- 
sented to her more and more a divine something to 
which she could speak and be heard. It was a con- 
fidante that she need never fear, for had it not held 
within its bosom thousands of human secrets which it 
had guarded closely until they had been merged in 
the depths of the mighty ocean? 

She had wondered this bright May morning, if it 
would be the same to her as before; if it would still 
smile upon her in its quiet, peaceful way. She had 
walked eagerly through the wood, her heart beating 
high with anticipation. A great deal had happened 
since the morning before, and she longed to be still 
and think. 


22 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


She looked about her in bewilderment, half -uncon- 
sciously smiling. 

“ It is the same. It is I that have changed.” 

She spoke to the scene before her, as to an intimate 
listener. She looked into its depths, as into a mother’s 
eyes. 

“ How can I feel as I do when Robert is going 
away, perhaps forever! I may never see him again 
and yet nothing is changed for me. Am I heartless 
and unfeeling, or can it be possible that I do not 
love him ? I don’t feel as he does ; I have never been 
sure of myself. I hoped something would come to 
test me and now it has come. He is going and I 
do not care. Have I been wrong in letting him 
believe I love him and call me his sweetheart? His 
sweetheart?” She repeated the word softly as if 
questioning its significance. 

“Yet surely we have been happy together and 
when he does not come the day seems incomplete. I 
even listen for his voice at the gate and the sound 
of his horse’s hoofs on the road. I remember how 
my heart beat when he told me he loved me. Still, 
when he had gone and I was alone, I knew it was not 
he I thought of, but the experience — the incident. 

23 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


That is it, he is an incident in my life; he does not 
fill it. I am deceiving him, for love must fill my life. 
It is nobler and more self-sacrificing than any feeling 
I have yet known.” 

She rose with the thought, and opened wide her 
arms, as if to embrace the new understanding that 
had come to her. 


24 


Ill 


SUDDENLY a long, howling roar, followed by 
a screeching hiss, burst upon the morning quiet. 
Agatha looked towards the river where a mass of 
black objects, gunboats, were gathered together in 
a gloomy group. She watched the shell as it sped 
towards the town, leaving a light thread of smoke 
in its pathway. 

Turning quickly, she retraced her steps to the 
house. She walked up on the porch, and opening 
the hall door entered the dark, cool house. She 
passed on through the hall to the back porch, and 
stopped there, leaning on the balustrade and scan- 
ning the orchard and vegetable garden which sloped 
down into the valley beyond. 

To one side of the sloping ground stood a group 
of one-story cabins, their whitewashed walls shining 
bright and clean in the sunlight. In front of these 
an old man was busily currying and brushing a 
horse, which he had tied in the shade of a large 
tree. 


25 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ Jeremiah ! ” called Agatha to him, “ I want the 
buggy in about an hour. I am going into town.” 

The old negro pulled off his hat respectfully, not 
attempting to restrain the surprise that showed upon 
his face. 

46 Fo’ de Lawd, Miss Agathy, you ain’t gwine to 
town wid all dem shells a-flyin’ about, is yer ? 99 

Agatha did not hear him. She had turned and 
gone into the house, leaving the old man to marvel 
at her temerity. 

She went directly to the dining-room, surprise 
showing on her face, when she saw her father 
already seated at the table. She stopped and kissed 
him before taking her seat, then began pouring the 
coffee from the large silver urn in front of her. 

She made a beautiful picture as she served the 
coffee. Every movement was easy and graceful, 
showing the confidence of long experience at the 
task. She looked pure and bright, like the morn- 
ing she had just been out to meet, and her white 
skin and delicate features showed that she had never 
known anything but daintiness and refinement. 

Her morning gown was of light pink silk, small 
rosebuds showing here and there over the glistening 
26 


HOPE 


THE HEART OF 

surface. The skirt was trimmed with bands of 
ruchings and opened from the waist down to show 
a mass of tiny linen ruffles, crisp, fresh and white. 
A Persian shawl of white crepe w T as thrown care- 
lessly about her shoulders. The bluish-black coils 
of her hair, matching the depths of her eyes, were 
brought down in long waves from a broad part, 
entirely obscuring her ears, and tied low on the 
neck. 

The room opened upon the garden, and through 
the tall windows which reached from the high ceiling 
to the floor the delicately scented air was wafted in. 

Agatha glanced up at her father. He was still 
reading intently the morning paper, a small sheet of 
wall paper with printing on only one side. 

“Is there anything new, father? Is this dreadful 
war never to end ? ” 

She leaned back in her chair as she spoke. 

“There must be a great deal of news from the 
size of the paper, this morning,” she continued. 
“ It seems to be at least a foot in length. Isn’t 
there something encouraging? ” 

Her father shook his head sorrowfully. 

“No, it is only a long letter from a Yankee officer, 
27 


O F 


HOPE 


THE HEART 

who was on the Cincinnati when she was sunk. It 
was found in his trunk which floated to shore.” 

He laid aside the paper and began his break- 
fast. 

He was a fine-looking old man, his perfectly white 
hair and fresh complexion softening the lines which 
had so deeply furrowed his face. His eyes were of 
a cool, clear blue; eyes that would always remain 
bright and youthful. There was a tenderness about 
him, a gentle dignity which showed that love and 
sorrow had been the dominating influences of his 
life. 

“I am afraid, Agatha, that the situation is becom- 
ing more gloomy.” 

There was a wistful tone in his voice as he 
spoke. 

“It looks now as if this war were going to be 
interminable. The danger to us is becoming greater 
every day. The shelling does not interfere much 
with our daily life now, but the gunboats are only 
getting the range of their guns, and when that is 
done showers of shot will rain on us all the time. 
Then you must leave me, it will not be safe for you 
to be here.” 


28 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Agatha looked up quickly. 

46 Do you think for a moment, father, that I would 
leave you here alone during this awful time?” 

She seemed to resent the suggestion. 

44 1 shall make myself very comfortable, my child.” 
He made an attempt to talk lightly. 44 1 shall go 
down to the cave if they begin shelling too heavily 
up here.” 

44 You mean the one we used to play in when we 
were children? It isn’t safe, is it?” 

The old man’s brow clouded. His hands began to 
shake a little. 

44 Yes,” he said slowly, 44 the cave where you and 
the boys played the last day they were with us. So 
long ago, now, Agatha.” 

He dropped his head in his hands and leaned for- 
ward on the table. 

Agatha rose and went over to where he sat. She 
was distressed that the boys had been mentioned. It 
was a subject that she and her father had silently 
agreed never to discuss. 

44 Father, don’t make me leave you and go away 
from here. I can risk the danger as well as you, 
even better. I will begin to-morrow to make the 
29 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

cave comfortable, and it will be real fun to go down 
there and live in it.” 

Her face brightened with the prospect of the 
novelty. 

The old man rose stiffly from his chair and walked 
slowly out into the garden. Seating himself on a 
rustic bench in the shadow of a magnolia tree, he 
filled a large meerschaum pipe and puffed at it 
comfortably. 

The flowers bloomed about him in neglected pro- 
fusion. Groups of larkspur, phlox, and poppies 
crowded the centres o‘f the beds, while a tall line 
of hollyhocks formed a protecting fence about the 
garden. 

In a few moments Agatha came out and walked 
towards him. She had changed the white shawl for 
a long black lace dolman that fell almost to the hem 
of her skirt, and upon her head she had put a tight- 
fitting white cambric bonnet, transparent, and show- 
ing the pink silk lining. It fitted about her face 
closely, projecting in front, and almost hiding her 
features from view. It was trimmed with black lace 
bands that hung far down her back. She carried 
a large bundle wrapped in coarse yellow paper. 

30 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“I am going into town, father,” she said reso- 
lutely. “ Our relief society meets this morning, and 
I want to take them the shirts that I have finished. 
I have really made six in two weeks. Isn’t that 
fine?” 

He pulled her down on the seat beside him, patting 
her on the shoulder affectionately. 

“ Very fine, indeed,” he said. “ They will never 
again have the chance of saying that our soldiers 
are not well dressed, will they? But why cannot 
Jeremiah take them in for you? The shells seem to 
be flying more thickly than usual this morning.” 

Agatha became a little nervous in her impatience. 

“Oh, father, do let me go, just to enjoy the satis- 
faction of seeing the girls surprised at what I have 
done. You know I never was a good hand with a 
needle — you have told me mother was not either — 
and I want to prove to them that I can do something. 
Besides, the shells are not causing much trouble yet. 
No one seems to be afraid of them.” 

She got up, gently leading the way to the gate, 
her father’s arm still around her. 

The resemblance between the two was not marked. 
It became more noticeable when one had known them 
SI 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

both well and had seen them separately. It was the 
resemblance that comes of two lives spent together, 
in sympathy and understanding. The tragedy of 
the man’s life had left him entirely dependent for 
companionship upon the girl — his only daughter. 
They had dwelt alone, growing out of personal touch 
with the world to such a degree that as Agatha 
developed into a woman she cared less and less for 
the social life which was open to her, her contentment 
and happiness being greatest when her evenings were 
spent at home with her father; the two sympathetic 
natures alone in the library, surrounded by walls of 
books. 

Her life had become practically a series of sub- 
jective experiences, so broad was it in the intellectual, 
so narrow in the personal. 

At the gate a high-swung buggy, with a massive 
hood, was standing. Jeremiah made a stately figure 
in his threadbare livery. His dignity and impor- 
tance made him overlook such trifling details as a 
frayed-out hat brim, and the green, weather-stained 
appearance of his coat. He held the reins tightly in 
his hands and looked with eyes full of doubt upon the 
scene before him. 


32 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


44 Don’t expect me home until late this evening, 
father,” Agatha said. 44 1 think I shall probably 
stay to dinner with Mrs. Sentrill. You know Robert 
is going away to-day, and she will be all alone.” 

44 Ah, I see,” her father said, smiling. 44 That is 
the reason you are so anxious to go to the society 
meeting to-day.” 

Agatha blushed guiltily as she climbed into the 
buggy, Jeremiah flourished the whip and they went 
off down the road at a good pace, a cloud of dust 
rising back of them. 

Mr. Windom stood at the gate watching them until 
the turn of the road hid them from sight. Then he 
turned and walked slowly back to the bench under 
the magnolia tree. 44 How am I to get her out of 
this town before the danger becomes too great? ” he 
said thoughtfully, as he watched the smoke float 
gently up from his pipe. 


33 


IV 


THE horse drew the high chaise swiftly along the 
road. The sun had risen well into the sky and the 
warmth of its rays was beginning to dispel the morn- 
ing freshness. Agatha raised a ruffled pink parasol 
and shaded her face from the glare. 

The road lay along the top of the hill which sloped 
down on one side to the river, on the other stretching 
down into uneven green meadows, dotted here and 
there with large white houses. Farther over, where 
the hills began to rise again, forming the chain that 
surrounded the town, was the graveyard, the tomb- 
stones mere dots upon the soft green. 

At the end of the long road they came suddenly 
to the brow of the hill. It jutted off abruptly into 
the valley, which narrowed at this point, forming 
a channel for the bayou which flowed through into 
the river. 

Before them lay the town, in the quiet noonday 
heat, the long streets, bright earth-yellow in colour, 
34 > 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


marking the town into squares, as in a map. A few 
large buildings stood out prominently from the rest, 
the central point of the scene being the classic stone 
structure which crowned the hill, and from which 
the plan seemed to radiate. 

Jeremiah held the horse up tightly before descend- 
ing the hill. He shook his head doubtfully. 

“ Miss Agathy,” he began, “ it looks powerful 
dangerous to me to cross dat ’ar bridge ober de 
bayou. Jes’ look at dem shells dah.” 

He held up his whip, gesticulating. 

Agatha looked about her impatiently. The still- 
ness was broken every few minutes by the whistling 
shells passing swiftly on to the town. She would 
follow the direction of the sound with her eyes, until 
the dull explosion showed that the shell had finished 
its mission. The effect of the whole scene was un- 
natural — too unreal to be convincing. From the 
distance the town seemed quiet and peaceful, with 
everything in its accustomed place, and yet, above 
it all, were these flying shells — messengers of death — 
sometimes exploding in the air, at others descending 
without noise into a clump of trees. 

“We will risk it anyhow, Jeremiah,” Agatha 
35 


HOPE 


THE HEART OF 

said resolutely. “I am not afraid. Don’t you be 
a coward.” 

The negro reluctantly gave the horse a touch with 
the whip and they began to descend the long hill. 

The road had been dug deep into the earth so as 
to lessen the grade, and the walls of earth rose on 
both sides, obscuring the view and filling the air 
with a damp, mouldy odour. Passing down they 
came out into the open again, and crossing the bridge 
drove up the long hill into the town. With the urg- 
ing of the somewhat alarmed Jeremiah, the horse went 
steadily along, soon coming to a stand-still before a 
house set far back in a yard of large trees. 

Everything was quiet about the place, and no one 
was to be seen in the yard or upon the verandah, 
although the door stood wide open. 

“ Mrs. Sen trill,” called Agatha, from her seat in 
the buggy. 

No answer came. 

“Jeremiah, wait here for me. I will go in and 
find out where they are.” 

She jumped from the buggy and ran up the walk. 
No one answered her knock and she entered the 
deserted and lonely looking hall. Passing through 
36 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


several of the rooms and finding no one, she called 
out loudly again. At last she heard sounds coming 
from under the hall floor. A trap-door opened and 
a negro woman put her head out. 

“Lordy, Miss Agatha, is dat you? What you 
doin’ in heah wid all dis shot a-flyin’.” She blinked 
her eyes in the strong light, her face looking ashy 
in her great fear. 

Agatha could not restrain herself at the sight of 
the absurd figure and began to laugh. 

“ Come out of there, Indianne,” she said. “ There 
is nothing to be afraid of. I want to find out where 
Mrs. Sentrill and Mr. Robert are.” 

The negress slowly emerged from her hiding place. 

“ She’s upstairs, Miss Agathy. She wouldn’t 
come down heah this mornin’ cause Marse Robert’s 
goin’ away. She jes’ trying Providence up dah in 
dat room,” pointing to the upstairs rooms. 

“Then Mr. Robert has gone?” asked Agatha, 
eagerly. 

“ Yes, m’am, he’s done been gone an hour.” 

Agatha went quickly upstairs. Before she reached 
Mrs. Sentrill’s room she heard a low, moaning sound, 
and opening the door gently she entered. It was 
37 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


almost in total darkness, the heavy green blinds shut- 
ting out the light. She stopped a moment waiting 
for her eyes to accustom themselves to the dim light. 
Gradually she was able to discern a little old woman 
sitting in the middle of the room, rocking to and fro. 
She held a handkerchief to her face and was sobbing 
pitifully. She was a pathetic figure, so forsaken, 
so forlorn, in the dark room. 

Agatha watched her a moment. Then going to 
her she knelt down beside the chair, and putting her 
arms about the old lady kissed her gently. 

“I came to see Robert again before he left,” she 
began softly. “ I thought he was not to leave before 
this afternoon and that he would be with you until 
then.” 

The little woman dried her eyes and looked up. 
Her face was pitiful in its dumb misery. Her eyes 
were red with weeping, and the expression of suffer- 
ing made them look almost unintelligent. She held 
on to the young girl as to a support, her voice broken 
with little gasps — sobs — as she spoke. 

“He had to report at headquarters early, but he 
is coming back to tell me good-bye. It is almost time 
now. Oh ! Agatha, Agatha, how can I stand it? He 
38 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


is going to leave me forever, I know it. You can’t 
understand how I feel. If I had only died before 
this came to me.” 

She broke down again, sobbing. Putting her sor- 
row into words seemed to have given it more painful 
reality. 

“ But others have come back safely. Why not 
Robert?” Agatha said soothingly. “ Think how 
many have gone into battle and have returned to 
us just as they left. You must think of the glorious 
victories that he will be in, of the honours he will 
win.” 

Mrs. Sentrill shook her head sorrowfully. 

“ Those are the hopes of youth, girl. Wait until 
you are my age. Then your whole life will be cen- 
tred in one person; one that is a part of you, a 
being to whom you have given life. I am old and 
forgotten. I have outlived my friends. I can’t lose 
my boy. There would be nothing left — the thought 
that he may not come back to me drives me mad.” 

Her sobbing ceased, and she looked steadily before 
her, staring into the doom that her grief had created. 

“ And he is so bright and gay with it all. He told 
me this morning that he had been waiting for this 
39 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


opportunity for two years — that the dull work given 
him in this sleepy town was killing him. He would 
tell me every few moments that he was actually going 
to see a battle, to be in it himself. Little did he 
know that each time he said it he was stabbing me.” 

A tear trickled slowly down Agatha’s face. She 
rose and walked over to the window. Loosening the 
clasp of the shutter she threw it wide open. A 
bright streak of sunlight shot into the room. 

“ You see, that is a sign of hope, of victory,” she 
said, pointing to the light. “ That means that he 
is coming back to you — to us — in a few days, with 
fine tales of his brave deeds. Let us both look on 
it in that way, shan’t we, Mrs. Sentrill? ” 

The old woman seemed to be buoyed up a little by 
the girl’s hopeful view. Her interest returned a little 
to the things about her. 

“ There is his lunch, Agatha. I made him every- 
thing he likes with my own hands. You know how 
fond he is of fried chicken, and those tall biscuits, and 
no one can make them as well as I.” She fingered a 
large box tied with a crumpled red ribbon and looked 
at it lovingly, as if it had already been the constant 
companion of her son. 


40 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Agatha turned away. 

“We had better go downstairs, now,” she said, a 
sob catching in her voice. “ I wanted to see Robert 
before he left, but I will not wait here. I know you 
want the last moments alone with him. Tell him I 
will be in the Court House yard and to stop there on 
his way to the train.” 

She led the way down the steps, the old lady fol- 
lowing her closely. 

Indianne and her companions had mustered courage 
enough to come up from their cellar retreat, and were 
now gathered in a small group in the rear of the hall. 
Agatha turned to them before leaving. 

“You mustn’t get so frightened again, Indianne.” 
She smiled at them all. “And don’t let Mrs. Sen- 
trill stay up there alone any more. It is not good 
for her.” 

The two women walked out on the verandah. 

The old lady had brightened greatly under the 
influence of Agatha’s cheerfulness. She had ceased 
her sobbing entirely and had wiped away the tears. 
Her morbid grief had been momentarily forgotten in 
the interest of their conversation. 

“How is your father, Agatha?” she asked. 

41 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ Very well. He seems to keep up splendidly. 
You know we don’t suffer from the shelling in the 
least. They seem to have concentrated on the town. 
Besides, they can’t see our house from the river.” 

“ But it is very dangerous for you to come into 
town. You should remember that you are your 
father’s mainstay now — all he has in the world. 
Does he talk to you much about your brother, my 
dear? ” 

Agatha shook her head sadly. 

“No, he seems to have given up all hope of hear- 
ing of him years ago. We never mention the sub- 
ject now. It only opens up old wounds.” 

She pulled some roses from a vine that was climbing 
about the verandah and slipped them into her belt. 
Then putting her arms around Mrs. Sentrill she 
kissed her again. 

“When you get lonely send for me. I am not 
afraid of the shelling, and will come to you at any 
time.” 


42 


y 


AGATHA walked slowly to the buggy where J eremiah 
was waiting for her. She told him to drive on up 
the hill to the Court House, a handsome old building 
of grey stone, each side forming a massive porch of 
Corinthian columns, and built upon high ground 
terraced down to the four streets that bordered it. 
On each of the four comers of the lot were large 
cistern houses, also classic in design. Tall oak trees 
grew about, making a fine setting for the grey 
stone. 

Agatha got out, and Jeremiah drove off to the 
shade of some trees, seeking not only protection for 
the horse from the sun, but cover from the shells for 
himself. 

Agatha passed in between the huge iron gates 
and going up the broad steps walked through the 
yard to the western side of the building. Here it 
was cool and quiet, and she could think undisturbed 
of the scene through which she had just passed. 

Sorrow had been almost an unknown factor in her 
43 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


life, such was the protection and care that her father 
exerted over her. So narrowed had it been, so closed 
in from all outside influences, that nothing of grief 
or the breaking of any ties had as yet touched her. 
The separation from her brother had come too early 
to have made any lasting impression upon her. At 
the time it was only the loss of a companion, a play- 
fellow, who had represented to her girlish imagination 
all that was ideal. 

Mrs. Sentrill’s grief had shocked and surprised 
her. It made her feel that she had missed something 
important in life by not being able to feel and suffer 
as this woman did. She wondered if she should ever 
feel anything so keenly, or if she were only a selfish 
creature incapable of such strong emotion. She had 
had no doubts about Robert’s return. Her mind had 
not pictured the dreadful scenes through which he 
would pass. She had not even thought of him as 
going into battle; only that he was leaving her for a 
time, and would come back the same light-hearted 
fellow that she had always known. 

She sat down on the terrace and looked out over the 
town. A band was playing somewhere in the distance, 
the soft melody floating to her across the house tops. 

44 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


Occasionally came the shrieking of a shell, followed by 
the explosion. The danger of the situation had never 
impressed her. 

Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps, and 
knew that Robert was coming to her. She trembled 
a little without knowing why, but feeling that a crisis 
in their relationship was about to take place. 

When she looked up he was standing before her, 
his grey uniform clean and bright, his fresh com- 
plexion and light hair fairer than ever. In her 
impression of him that morning she remembered 
long afterwards that his eyes had seemed to her too 
light, with too much white about them, a something 
that made her feel a little less confidence in his 
integrity. He was smiling down at her, his admira- 
tion and love showing in the glance. 

“ I am glad you came, Robert,” she said haltingly. 
It was difficult for her to find a way of expressing 
what she wished. “I wanted to tell you something 
that has come to me this morning.” 

He waited, without interruption. While she hesi- 
tated he sat down beside her and took her hand in 
his. 

“ I don’t want you to go away from me believing all 
45 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


you say you do about me. I don’t want you to think 
so highly of me. I am not worthy of it, Robert.” 

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. 
Agatha looked helplessly on the ground. She felt 
that she was not expressing at all what she meant. 

“You see, Robert, I am not at all sure that you 
are leaving a very true girl behind you,” she began 
again. “ I don’t want you to think that I shall be sad 
or unhappy while you are away. I shall not be that.” 

Robert looked a little bewildered but said nothing. 

“When I saw your mother’s grief a little while 
ago,” she continued, “ I realised that I knew nothing 
of really deep feeling. I don’t believe I am even 
capable of it.” 

She stopped hopelessly. How could she tell 
Robert that she did not love him? It would be too 
cruel when he was so happy in his confidence in her 
love, so thrilled with the joy of being a soldier. 

Robert laughed lightly. 

“ Agatha,” he said, “ what in the world is making 
you so solemn this morning? I never have seen you 
in such a mood before. Do cheer up and be a little 
gayer. You know I think you are the sweetest girl 
in the world, and nothing that you can say against 
46 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


yourself will make me love you less. It is my greatest 
happiness to know that you love me and that we shall 
be married when this war is over.” 

As he stopped speaking the bell in the tower above 
them began to toll the hour. They counted the 
strokes, and as the last one died in the air, Robert 
rose and started to go. He took both of Agatha’s 
hands in his. 

“But, Robert, you don’t understand,” she began. 

“ Oh, yes I do, dear,” he said impatiently. He drew 
her to him quickly, and kissed her several times upon 
the lips. As she leaned passively in his arms she 
wondered why she had ever let him kiss her before. 
It seemed so meaningless now. When she looked up 
again he was gone, and she had not told him what 
was in her heart. He had laughed and said he under- 
stood her perfectly. How little he knew what he was 
saying. 


47 


VI 


SHE sat there waiting, hoping that He might come 
back. She resolved to tell him surely this time, that 
there might be no misunderstanding in the future. 
The music from the band still came to her with the 
changes of the breeze, and presently a cheer rose from 
many throats. She started up and stood undecided 
a moment. Then she walked quickly back to where 
she had entered the grounds and waved to Jeremiah 
to drive up to the gate. 

64 Drive to the station, quick,” she told him, 44 1 
want to see the train with the soldiers on it before it 
leaves.” 

The horse jumped forward at the touch of the 
negro’s whip, and soon they were speeding down the 
street at an alarming pace. Turning comers sharply, 
not slackening their gait for the steep hills and 
uneven places, they soon came into the crowd that was 
blocking the streets near the station. 

The troops had chosen a good hour for their depar- 
ture, for the gunboats were resting from the fierce 
48 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


shower of shells to give the guns a chance to cool. 
A great crowd of people were abroad in the streets, 
old men on crutches led about by boys, women with 
babies in their arms and little children tugging at 
their skirts and crying with fright as they were 
jostled by the throng. There was a haggard look 
about them all. The long year of suffering, the lack 
of wholesome food, was writing its story upon their 
faces. 

Agatha left the buggy, for the crowd was too 
great for a vehicle to make any progress, and pushed 
her way in among the people. It was almost impos- 
sible at first for her to make any headway, but grad- 
ually she wedged her way along until she reached the 
street that looked down on the station. Here she 
had a good view of the whole scene. 

The hill back of her which rose abruptly from the 
street was packed with a mass of people, giving the 
effect of a thousand blurred colours. The street 
was lined with them even down to the track where the 
car, draped with long bands of red and white bunting, 
stood ready to leave. 

Despite the moving mass of human beings an 
ominous silence reigned everywhere. The crowd 
49 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

might almost have been petrified so little noise escaped 
them. The deafening roar of the cannon firing a 
salute jarred upon the silent grief of the people 
with a sense of shock. They had seen soldiers leave 
for the battlefield before. They knew how few came 
back, and in what condition. These things were in 
their minds as they stood there watching the prep- 
arations for the departure. They did not feel like 
cheering — it was only that they wanted to get a last 
look at their loved ones. 

A cheer arose several blocks away and the soldiers 
began to march down the street towards the station. 
The band preceded them, playing “The Girl I Left 
Behind Me.” The shrill sound of the fife rose above 
the regular beating of the drums ; and the crowd 
separated as the steady tramp came nearer and nearer. 
When they came into full view of the crowd, the sun 
shone brightly upon the mass of grey. Before them 
flying in the breeze was the red flag with the diagonal 
cross upon it. There was no excitement, no breaking 
of ranks. The men went calmly into the cars and took 
their seats. The train was ready to start. 

A few women gathered together and stood out from 
the crowd. The cannon stopped its firing, the band 
50 


THE HEART OF HOPE 


was hushed, and the sound of their voices, singing, 
was lifted upon the still air. 

“March on, march on! 

All hearts resolved on victory or death!” 

The line ended in a wail. The singers were unable 
to finish their song. They broke down sobbing. A 
low moan of sorrow went up from the streets, from 
the crowded hillside, and echoed far off into the hills. 

Old wounds had been opened afresh by the scene. 
Each felt the personal note in the country’s trial 
and none tried to keep back the tears. 

Agatha stood watching it all as in a dream. It 
seemed that she was looking on at a play, that the 
curtain would fall in a moment, and she would come 
out into the world again. 

It had affected her keenly. She had sobbed like 
thousands of others, and as the train began to move 
slowly she could scarcely see it through her tears. 
Many handkerchiefs were waving from the car 
windows, and thinking that Robert might be waving 
one of them, having seen her in the crowd, she raised 
her hand high above her head and waved until the 
train passed the brow of the hill and disappeared 
from view. 


51 


VII 


AGATHA remained a while upon the hillside where 
she had climbed to get a better view and watched the 
crowd quietly disperse. She was still under the influ- 
ence of the scene she had been witnessing ; still ponder- 
ing upon the awakening that had come to her that 
morning. The scenes that had followed seemed a 
natural sequence in her development. The incon- 
solable grief of Mrs. Sentrill had come to her as a new 
experience and had opened her eyes to the narrowness 
of her own life. And she could still hear that one 
long sob of the people far off across the river where 
the willows bent in the gentle breeze. 

Suddenly she was aroused from her reverie by the 
shriek of a shell. A terrific explosion followed. The 
deafening roar made her stagger and clutch at a tree 
for support. When she recovered the men had run 
to the railroad track where the train had stood a 
few minutes before. A deep hole had been dug there 
by the shell ; not a vestige of the iron rail was to be 
seen for yards. 

Agatha shuddered and retraced her steps towards 
52 


O F 


HOPE 


THE HEART 

the cart. If the shell had fallen a few minutes sooner 
devastation and death would have been certain. She 
put her hands up to her face as if to shut out the 
horrible thought. 

When she had returned to the buggy her package 
of shirts recalled to her one of the commissions which 
had brought her to town. As they drove slowly back 
through the still streets a few stragglers were still 
hanging about the corners, but most of them had 
already sought more protected places. 

She stopped before an old brick church on the 
corner, and taking her bundle, dismissed Jeremiah for 
an hour or more. The old negro whipped up the horse 
sharply and soon settled himself behind the pro- 
tection of a large hill towards the edge of the town, 
where he could doze comfortably out of the range 
of the shells and the horse could graze by the side 
of the road. 


53 


VIII 


AGATHA carried her bundle to one of the side doors 
of the church opening into the basement. Several 
girls rose as she entered and hastened towards her, 
taking her package and opening it eagerly without 
waiting for her permission. 

The Relief Society, as they proudly called them- 
selves, was composed of twenty young women who 
spent most of their time sewing and making gar- 
ments for the soldiers. The lack of clothing was 
appalling, the need of it was absolute, and the young 
women had done good work. The basement of the 
brick church had been chosen for their meeting place, 
its solidity and situation being considered sufficient 
protection from the bombardment. 

They were gathered in a circle when Agatha 
entered, the conversation keeping up merrily as the 
needles flew in and out of the coarse cloths. 

“ Have you really made six shirts, Agatha? ” said 
Kitty Merritt as she untied the bundle. There was 
a touch of sarcasm in her voice. “That’s not bad 
for you. I didn’t expect to see two.” 

54 > 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ Don’t boast, Kitty,” Agatha said, smiling. 
“What have you to show for such brave talk?” 

Kitty seemed a little embarrassed by the question. 

“ Well, everyone knows that I have been sick and 
couldn’t sew much. I made these four in three days.” 

As Agatha sat down many sidelong glances were 
cast in her direction. All the girls knew that she 
and Robert Sentrill had been engaged for several 
years, and that he had left town that day to go into 
the field. They were curious to know how Agatha 
had stood the ordeal. Many of them had been through 
it, and knew too well what it had meant to them. 
Two of the small number had already come to the 
gathering one morning in sombre black, their blanched 
and tear-stained faces speaking plainly of their loss. 
The others had gone to them quietly and kissed them. 
Nothing was said. It was a sorrow that refused the 
sympathy of words. 

Agatha knew that they were looking at her, criti- 
cising her appearance, and her heart went out to them 
as she glanced over many of the young faces that 
already had begun to age. Their gowns had long 
ago shown signs of giving out, and the many darned 
places, turned over and re-made parts, were a dismal 
55 


THE 


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O F 


HOPE 


sign of the increasing lack of comforts among the 
townspeople. 

She examined with interest the bundles of shirts 
strewn about on the floor, looking at some carefully, 
smiling at others, until she picked up a little package 
containing three shirts that would have been too small 
for a boy ten years old. 

She held it up laughing heartily. 

44 Who on earth made this ? It isn’t big enough for 
a baby.” 

All of them joined in the chorus of laughter with 
one exception — a young girl about sixteen, who was 
sitting a little out of the circle, her bright golden 
curls hanging about her shoulders. She pouted at 
their laughter and seemed about to cry. 

44 I told you I didn’t know how to make shirts,” 
she began plaintively, 44 but you said I could learn. 
Now you see I can’t.” She tossed her head pettishly. 

At this the girls began to laugh more heartily. 

44 If we had known you were going to waste all that 
flannel we should not have given it to you,” said 
Kitty Merritt, feeling her superiority of age and 
experience. 

Agatha looked at her reproachfully. She felt 
56 


THE 


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HOPE 


guilty for having started the laugh at the little girl. 
She went over and sat down beside her. 

“Never mind, Janie, they can’t do any better 
themselves. Don’t let them tease you. You will do 
much better next time.” 

Janie smiled and the girls settled down to work. 

Presently another member came hurrying in drag- 
ging a huge bundle after her. She was a stout girl 
dressed in a grey homespun gown. A yellow bonnet 
fitted tightly about her face, with a huge bow of the 
same coloured ribbon under her chin. 

“ Oh, girls,” she cried, falling into a chair, “ get 
me some water quick. I think I am going to faint.” 

They all crowded about her, but she waved them 
back with her hands. 

“ Get away from me. What I want is air. Don’t 
crowd so. I’ll tell you as soon as I feel better. It is 
this bonnet.” She tugged helplessly at the bow that 
held it in place. 

“Let me take it off for you,” said Kitty, untying 
the strings. 

“Why it smells of turpentine, Melinda! Where 
have you been? ” 

Melinda shook her head in despair. 

57 


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OF HOPE 


“ And it is all stuck to your hair. I don’t believe 
I can get it out. It is all sticky with something.” 

“Get the scissors and cut it. I don’t care, just so 
I never have it near me again. I am so sick. Isn’t 
the smell awful?” 

Someone brought the scissors and Kitty began to 
cut here and there, but the bonnet would not give, 
even to the keen edge of the scissors. 

Melinda still kept urging them to hurry. 

“I shall have to cut your hair in places, Melinda. 
Do you mind?” asked Kitty. 

“ No. I mind nothing except the bonnet. Do 
anything you can to get it off.” 

With a few deft strokes of the sharp blades, Kitty 
lifted off the bonnet, with long strands of hair hang- 
ing to it and placed it in Melinda’s lap. 

“For mercy sake take it away,” the stout girl 
exclaimed, throwing it into a corner. 

The girls ran over and picked it up, taking it to 
the window to examine it more closely. 

“My, but I feel better,” said Melinda, taking a 
deep breath. “Girls, let me tell you,” as they all 
gathered interestedly about her. “Don’t ever buy 
any hats from that horrid Madame Jansen. She is 
58 


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HOPE 


a cheat. She told me that thing,” pointing scorn- 
fully to the bonnet, “ was ze newest ting in bonnets,” 
mimicking the foreign accent. She said it had just 
been smuggled through New Orleans for her at a 
great expense, and that she would sell it to me for 
exactly what she had paid for it, one hundred dollars 
in Confederate money. I really thought it was very 
becoming and stylish, so I bought it. When I started 
here to-day I thought I would wear it and let you 
all see it. When I got out into the street where the 
sun was shining hot, I began to notice a peculiar odour. 
I thought of course that someone was painting a 
house and paid no attention to it, but the odour kept 
getting stronger and stronger and seemed to follow 
me. Then I began to realise that it was about me. 
I put my hands up to that bonnet and they stuck to 
it. Girls, it is nothing but some cloth made stiff 
with varnish. Please throw it out of the window. I 
can’t stand even a suspicion of the odour, now.” 

She opened the collar of her heavy gown and 
rolled back her sleeves to her elbows. As she 
recovered, her capacity for management came back 
to her. 

“ Come here, girls, all of you.” She pulled the 
59 


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HOPE 


large bundle she had brought with her up to her and 
untied it. “ I have found out something we can make 
besides shirts.” 

Everyone was intently interested at once. She 
waited a moment to give her words weight. Then 
she said in a solemn, reverential tone : 

“Pants!” 

“Oh, Melinda, where did you get the pattern,” 
asked timid little Jeanne. 

Melinda gave her a withering glance. 

“ Now don’t make out like you are shocked, Miss 
Priss,” she said. “I got them from father’s old 
trunk in the garret. They are a pair which he 
never wears, and we can cut a pattern from them. 
Let’s try making a pair this afternoon and see what 
we can do.” 

The trousers were carefully brought out of the 
package and laid on the floor. 

“ Now, smooth out some paper, girls, so I can 
cut this side of the pattern.” 

Melinda superintended the cutting and they were 
soon busily at work. The stillness was only broken 
by the whirring of the needles and the snapping of 
the thread. 


60 


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Once every little while there would be a startling 
explosion in the distance, and each of the girls would 
look up with anxiety. 

Suddenly Melinda stood up and threw her work 
from her. 

“ Listen, girls ! ” she cried. “ Would you believe 
it? We have been making these pants out of blue 
cloth. How horrible ! Suppose some of our men 
had put them on. They would have been shot for 
Yankees.” 

They arose and threw the pieces from them, push- 
ing the scraps into the corner. Kitty Merritt’s face 
showed her disgust at Melinda’s stupidity in not find- 
ing out the mistake before, not once realising that she 
had failed to see it herself. 

As the slanting rays of the sun told them it was late 
in the afternoon the girls began to fold up their 
work. Kitty had been telling the crowd of a letter 
that had been smuggled to her through the Union 
lines. It was from a cousin of hers who had been 
caught in the midst of the Federal army. She had 
written her that the worst experience was that the 
soldiers would take every tooth brush in the house, 
because they could not buy any more ; and one 
61 


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OF HOPE 


cavalry-man had put her new bonnet on his horse’s 
head and said “ Get up, Jack,” and her bonnet was 
gone. Kitty had finished the anecdote with a toss 
of her head, saying proudly, “ I would like to see any 

of them treat me that way. What I would say ” 

and she left the remainder to the other girls’ imagi- 
nation. 

“ I wonder how we could stand it,” mused Agatha, 
as she rose to go. 

Kitty’s story of the letter had brought more forci- 
bly to her mind the helpless position of girls in war- 
fare than anything had yet done. 

They all strolled to the gate together, and scattered 
in different directions laughing and chattering. 


62 


IX 


JEREMIAH had not yet come and Agatha was left 
standing alone in the fading lights. The mortars 
were resting for a few moments, and the quiet beauty 
of the scene brought peace to her heart. 

Across from where she stood, a yard was full of 
bright, blooming flowers. A wire pyramid of 
geraniums made a tone of delicious pink upon the 
white wall of the house. Somewhere in the distance 
birds were singing. Amid all this peace and calm 
it was hard for Agatha to realise that an awful war 
was raging about her; a war that her father had told 
her meant ruin, desolation, death. She thought of 
that day, two years before, when she had gone into 
town with him to see the parades, the bonfires, to hear 
the music and the fierce, jubilant ringing of the 
bells that announced the secession of each State. 
He had told her it meant that everyone would have 
to go to war, and as they drove home that cold 
February night the words sank deep into her mind 
63 


HOPE 


THE HEART OF 

and made her lean closer to his side. “ Ruin, deso- 
lation, death.” She had repeated them over again 
and again to herself. 

After a while Jeremiah and the cart appeared and 
they drove home in the dim twilight. She lingered 
a moment in the garden. A light breeze had sprung 
up, lifting her hair softly off her brow. She wanted 
to rest a moment before going in to her father, and 
the soft evening light was refreshing to her. Her 
brain felt hot and feverish from the excitement of 
the scenes she had passed through. She sat down on 
the bench that surrounded a small fish pond and 
let her hand sink into the cool depths of the water. 
She could see the reflection of the stars in the limpid 
depths, and with the ripple caused by the splash of 
her hand they were multiplied into thousands. It 
made her think of the thousand sensations that must 
be coming to her if each day of her life were to 
open up new feelings and stir the depths of her soul, 

i 

as this one had done. 

She moistened her brow with the cool water, and 
rising, looked across the valley. The large, orange- 
coloured moon was just beginning to show through a 
wood of oaks upon the opposite hill. The branches 
64 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

of the trees stood out strongly, silhouetted against 
the light. A harmony of sounds came with the ap- 
proaching night. The buzzing of insects, the vibrat- 
ing call of the locusts and in the distance the 
rhythmic chant of the frogs made a penetrating 
twilight hymn. 

She turned and went into the dining-room. The 
servants were laying the table for supper and she 
went to her own room to change her gown. Her 
father had always kept up a certain amount of form 
in his househould. The slaves were all well trained, 
and the housemaids had been particularly drilled in 
their tasks. He had always insisted upon dressing 
for their evening meal, and Agatha had carried out 
the plan to please him so long that it had grown into 
a habit. 

When the supper bell sounded, she came down in 
an elaborate evening dress. It was made of white 
tarletan, the large, flaring hoop-skirt covered with 
a mass of tiny ruffles that graduated from the bottom 
to the top. Her neck and shoulders were bare, the 
waist being cut low, and finished around the top with 
a deep flounce of lace, a little yellowed with age. 

65 



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Around her throat was a coral necklace, holding in 
place a glistening gold cross. Her face was very 
pale, except for the scarlet lips, and her black eyes, 
softened into tenderness by the long lashes, looked 
brighter than usual. The steady candle light shone 
brightly upon her full, white shoulders and glossy 
hair. 

As she came into the dining-room, she stopped at 
her father’s chair and kissed him. He held her hand 
for a moment, looking up at her. 

“ Why, Agatha ! ” He seemed surprised. “ There 
is no ball to-night, is there ? ” 

She shook her head, laughing. 

“ No, only I am so tired of all those old things I 
have been wearing that I felt that I must get into 
something a little new — at least, a frock that I have 
not worn lately.” 

She slipped into her chair, managing adroitly the 
cumbersome hoop-skirt, and rested her hands before 
her on the table. 

The room was brilliantly lighted. The tall mantel- 
piece had four candle-sticks upon it, with large glass 
shades to protect them from draughts. The glass 
surfaces were etched with designs of fruit and birds. 

66 


THE 


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HOPE 


There were other candles grouped upon the side- 
board and serving tables, shining brightly on the 
silver of a century’s accumulation. 

Almost everything in the room was of another gen- 
eration, and had its story to tell of other events than 
those of the present. 

Agatha was proud of these heirlooms and of the 
traditions which they embodied. She felt that all the 
courage, all the pride that was in her had come down 
from these remote ancestors, and would help her over 
the rough places and give her strength to travel 
calmly to the end. 

“ Father,” she began, “ when will this dreadful war 
be over? ” 

The old man looked at her yearningly. 

“ Who can tell, Agatha ? It seems to me intermin- 
able. Something may happen in the next few days 
to break the monotony of this existence. I am glad 
you have brought up the subject, for I have wanted 
to speak of it to you for a long time. It seems Grant 
is concentrating on this place. It is his plan to take 
the city, and I believe he will do it. The river must 
be open to him all the way down, and this is the last 
place to resist him. Pemberton has gone to meet him, 
67 


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HOPE 


and in a week at most there will probably be a battle. 
All we can do is to pray for victory.” 

Agatha listened intently, resting her face in her 
hands. 

“ If we are defeated the town will be assaulted 
from the rear. If the Yankees surround the town 
we shall be exposed to the fire from beyond the hills, 
and what troubles me most is how to take care of you. 
This is not the place for you to stay.” 

Agatha looked hurt. She anticipated his thought. 

“ Send me away and you stay here alone? 
Never.” 

She emphasised the last word with a toss of her 
head. 

“ Why not, Agatha? You can go to Elmwood, 
and stay with Amanda. They would be glad to have 
you and you would not be in any danger there.” 

Agatha shook her head impatiently. 

“We will not discuss that, father. I am going to 
stay with you whatever happens.” 

The old man shook his head in disapproval. 

“ Don’t be angry, father.” Agatha smiled at him. 
“ You may as well let me stay, for it is already 
decided.” 


68 


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HOPE 


Her father glanced up brightly. A sudden inspi- 
ration had come to him. 

“ Then, Agatha,” he began, slowly feeling his way, 
“ Will you do this much for me? I don’t want you to 
be too much alone. Will you go out and spend a few 
days with Amanda, and ask her to let one of the girls 
come back with you? You cannot be left alone, and 
the slaves may leave us at any moment. I have heard 
reports everywhere of their flight whenever the Union 
army is near. Will you do as I ask? ” 

He leaned forward, looking at her earnestly. 

“ You say that, father, as if I would not do any- 
thing for you except go away and leave you. If you 
think I should have someone here with me I will get 
someone to-morrow. I will take Selim, and Jeremiah 
can go with me. I can spend the night at Elmwood 
and bring Judith back the next day.” 

Agatha began to grow interested in her proposed 
jaunt. She was already planning the details. 

Her father sat back contented. He had gained 
his point at last. 

When supper was over, they went out into the gar- 
den together. The moon had risen and was flooding 
the scene with pale light. They walked up and down 
69 


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HOPE 


in silence, only the light of Mr. Windom’s cigar, and 
the reflected glow upon Agatha’s dress, being clearly 
visible. 

Far off, over the city, they could see the shells — 
fierce war-flowers — bursting into bloom, and disap- 
pearing into the night. 

Agatha was the first to break the silence. 

“ Father, I thought to-day, as I stood and watched 
the train move off with our men on it, that we had 
been spared a great sorrow by not having Edward 
here with us. It would have broken your heart and 
mine too, to have had him leave us in that way.” 

He did not answer. There was a dead silence 
except for the crunching gravel under their feet. 

“ There could be no sorrow keener than that loss, 
Agatha. It is the uncertainty that keeps it so fresh. 
Sometimes I feel as if I should go mad for fear that I 
may not see Edward again — that he may be living, 
and I not know it.” 

He sat down on the bench beneath the magnolia 
trees, and pulling Agatha down beside him, they both 
remained there silent. 


70 


X 


THE morning came dark and gloomy. Grey clouds 
hung threateningly across the sky, drifting down 
close to the earth and shutting it in. The air was 
warm and moist, heavy with a searching dampness. 

Agatha was walking impatiently up and down the 
back porch. She had ordered Jeremiah to saddle her 
horse, Selim, and to prepare to go with her to the 
country. She wore a tight-fitting black cloth riding- 
habit, which showed off to perfection her tall, lithe 
figure. Her hair was tucked up under a high- 
crowned hat. She carried a silver-mounted whip, 
which she flicked against the columns as she passed 
to and fro. 

As she glanced toward the barn, a large white- 
washed building on the slope of the hill, where the old 
negro was vigorously currying and brushing out the 
horse’s mane, an expression of affection shone in her 
eyes. He had been with them as far back as she 
could remember, and long before that. When the 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


exodus was made from Virginia into the distant 
South, he had been her father’s body-servant. He 
had often told her of his experiences in those wild and 
unsettled days. Of how they travelled in wagons 
drawn by oxen ; of the slow pilgrimage into the vir- 
gin country where the wild beasts howled at night 
about the wagons ; of the first house, built high off the 
ground, and with steps made to draw up at night to 
keep the fierce panthers out. With his quaint lan- 
guage, and vivid descriptions, he had made a romance 
of it, to Agatha, one that, even when she had grown 
to womanhood, still held a charm and interest, for the 
story was built about her mother’s youth. Jeremiah 
spoke often of her beauty and the admiration 
bestowed upon her in the early settling days ; of their 
yearly pilgrimage to New Orleans, on the big white 
steamboat, when, at the landings, friends would bring 
her flowers, for the reputation of her beauty was as 
wide as the South itself. 

One of the darkest hours in Agatha’s life had been 
when the slaves were told that they were free. Jere- 
miah, crazed with the news, like the others, fled down 
the road with his few belongings to seek the meaning 
of it in the town. She and her father had been left 
72 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


entirely alone for three days ; then, early one morn- 
ing, Jeremiah, with two of the women, came back. 
They looked crestfallen and ashamed, and said that 
they had returned to their home to stay where they 
had been well treated. Ever since that time they 
had remained there, obedient and faithful. 

When the horses were ready, Agatha and her father 
walked to the gate. Selim, her saddle horse, was a 
proud animal, his black hair shining, his head held 
erect, while he pawed the soft earth excitedly, impa- 
tiently awaiting the touch of his mistress. 

Mr. Windom handed Agatha a letter. It was 
enclosed in an elaborately embossed envelope, the 
glazed surface making it look like celluloid. She 
smiled as she took it, for she knew it was the last 
envelope in the house. The supply of writing mate- 
rials in the town had long since given out, and there 
seemed no chance of replenishing it. But it was Mr. 
Windom’s way to show his love for his sister by 
giving her the best that he possessed. 

“ Here is a letter for your Aunt Amanda,” he 
said. “ Tell her I think of her every day, and wish 
that we could all be together.” Agatha prepared to 
mount Selim, but hesitated, and ran back into the 
73 


THE 


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HOPE 


house. Going upstairs she took from the armoire 
in her room an old-fashioned leather case which con- 
tained a small pearl-handled pistol. She examined it 
to see if it were loaded, and slipped it into the bodice 
of her dress. 

When Jeremiah had helped her to mount her horse 
she turned toward her f ather. 

“ Now, remember, if anything should happen to 
me,” she said, smiling at the improbability of the 
thought, “ it was you that made me go.” As she 
spoke, she touched Selim with the whip, and he gal- 
loped off with her proudly down the road. 

Mr. Windom stood for a moment watching her, 
then turned back toward the house. 

“ May God keep her out of this town until the dan- 
ger is past,” was the prayer that went up from his 
lips. 


74 


XI 


THE shelling of the town was going on fiercely that 
morning. As they crossed the bridge over the bayou, 
letting the horses go slowly, a Parrott shell came 
whistling over their heads, and plunged into the 
bayou, throwing great sheets of water high into the 
air. Agatha urged Selim rapidly up the hill until 
she reached the quiet residence street which led out of 
the town. Here she drew rein a moment and looked 
about her. She had not been in this part of the town 
for more than a month, and the outlook of the whole 
place was changed. What had been smooth, green- 
terraced lawns were now but a honeycombed mass of 
small entrances to caves, which gave the place the 
look of an avenue of sepulchres. 

Groups of negroes were still digging rapidly in the 
hard soil, while other men were standing about, 
superintending and giving instructions. Through 
the openings to the caves could be seen women and 
children, their pale and frightened faces showing the 
suspense and unhealthiness of their enforced hiding. 

75 


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HOPE 


Agatha walked her horse along slowly between 
these places, looking at them with interest, but never 
feeling for a moment the danger she incurred. 

A girl came out of one of the caves and shading 
her eyes with her hand, looked toward Agatha. 
Then she waved her hand, beckoning to her. 

Agatha rode into the yard. The fences and plank 
walls had disappeared in the mounds of fresh earth 
piled about everywhere. 

“ Get off, Agatha, and come in here ! I want you 
to see my new home.” 

It was her friend, Melinda, who seemed to have 
made herself perfectly at home in the strange sur- 
roundings. Agatha threw the reins to Jeremiah, and 
jumping off the horse walked up the embankment to 
Melinda. 

“ Father made us come here yesterday,” the girl 
told her. “A shell exploded near our kitchen and 
almost killed our old cook. Poor old thing, her arm 
had to be taken off, the wound was so bad. After 
that, father just made us all move out of the house 
directly and come to this awful hole. Just come in 
and look at it.” 

She stooped a little and they entered the dark cave 
76 


THE 


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HOPE 


A long, narrow corridor had been dug out, extend- 
ing for several yards, and then broadening into a 
large room, twenty feet square. Rough hewn posts 
supported the centre of the cave, which was lighted 
by several lamps. 

The family — the mother and four or five children — 
were sitting together in the centre, on a carpet which 
they had brought with them. Rude benches and 
bunks were arranged about the wall to take the place 
of beds. The heat of the place was oppressive. 

Agatha looked around a moment, and then rushed 
from the cave. The feeling of suffocation was too 
strong for her. When they reached the open air, 
where they could breathe freely, she said to Melinda, 
who had followed her out: 

“ How can you stand it ? I would rather risk any- 
thing than suffocate in that horrible place. I had no 
idea the caves were so dreadful.” 

“ Well,” said Melinda impatiently, “ what can I 
do ? Father says we must stay here and that settles 
it. I certainly couldn’t stay home all alone. I wish 
he could see you out riding about town as if the place 
were not being showered with shot. Where are you 
going, out to Elmwood? ” 


77 


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HOPE 


Agatha had mounted her horse. “ Yes, that’s just 
where I’m going,” she replied. Father wants me to 
bring back one of the girls for company. He says 
we have not begun to see the worst part of the war 
yet. I’ll bring Judith back with me in the morning, 
and we’ll stop here so that I can show her your cave. 
Good-bye.” 

She rode quickly back into the street, and soon 
came to a long hill, leading up to the chain that sur- 
rounded the town. They passed a group of soldiers 
stationed by the road, who examined her pass and 
let her go on. 

The sun had disappeared by this time, and the sky 
had become dark again. A few large drops of rain 
fell upon the dusty road. Agatha urged her horse 
to his full speed. The sound of the bursting shells 
became less distinct as the town was left behind. 
They crossed a wooden bridge that spanned the rail- 
road, their horses’ hoofs making a clattering noise in 
the stillness of the country. They galloped down 
into a long valley and began the ascent on the other 
side, between the dug-out walls of the road. The 
way was familiar to Agatha ; almost all the big trees 
that formed milestones held some association for her, 
78 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

some memory of the many journeys that she had 
made along that same way. 

The shower stopped, so she gave Selim the rein, 
letting him climb the hill at his ease. At the top, 
they came out upon another ridge, and the horses, 
blowing hard from their long pull, rested a moment 
under a crepe myrtle tree, fresh and beautiful in its 
pale pink blossoms. Selim’s glossy coat was flecked 
with white lather and Agatha patted him on the neck, 
playfully telling him that he was too soft for such 
speed and must have more exercise. 

She was pinning her hat on more securely, when 
suddenly there was a flash of grey before her as 
three men ran quickly across the road and dis- 
appeared in a dense growth of bushes in the direction 
of the town. “ Did you see those men, Jeremiah? ” 
she said wonderingly. He was staring straight into 
the bushes where they had disappeared, and nodded 
his head without speaking. Agatha spurred Selim 
forward and dashed up to the place where the men 
had crossed. No sign of them was to be found, 
except their footprints in the deep dust of the high- 
way. She called aloud but only her own voice echoed 
back to her. So sudden had been their appear- 
79 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

ance and departure that she felt as if she had been 
dreaming. 

She resumed her ride slowly, wondering what it 
could mean. Why did not these men, evidently Con- 
federates, keep to the road instead of flying across 
the country like mad? Presently she turned into a 
narrow, unused lane. Scarlet trumpet vines were 
clustering over the old, wood-rail fence that protected 
the meadows on either side. Wild wistaria and 
climbing hydrangeas made the air fragrant, and the 
soft, damp air came refreshingly to the horses as well 
as the riders. 

A wide, rough gate barred the end of the lane, and 
above it could be seen the primitive old house, built of 
logs, their whitewashed sides shining clean in the sur- 
rounding grove of beach trees. 

Agatha rode gaily in at the gate, which Jeremiah 
opened, and called loudly for some of her relations to 
meet her. She dismounted at the high porch, and 
Jeremiah and another negro led the horses away. 

For a moment she stood upon the porch to shake 
the dust from her skirts. Before the house was a 
long avenue of beech trees forming a complete can- 
opy for the stretch of velvety turf underneath. 

80 


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HEART OF 


HOPE 


Beyond, through the vista made by the trees, were the 
hills that grew from green into blue, as the distance 
widened. To one side lay a group of one-story 
houses, the former slave quarters, a little settlement 
by itself, now entirely deserted. On the other side 
was the orchard and vegetable garden. 

A pleasant-looking mulatto girl appeared and told 
Agatha the family were all in the garden picking 
strawberries, so she went there to find them. 

At the end of the long rows of furrowed ground, 
she saw three pink sunbonnets bobbing up and down, 
moving about among the stubby plants. Agatha 
walked toward them, calling her cousins by name. 

The two little girls recognised her first and came 
running with exclamations of delight, followed by 
Judith, the eldest sister, whose bright pretty face 
showed an equal pleasure. They all wore plain calico 
dresses, standing out stiff with the starch of bad 
washing. Mrs. Wordsworth came more slowly, walk- 
ing with the aid of a cane, for the rheumatism 
brought on by the labour and exposure of the past 
year caused her great suffering. Her husband had 
been among the first to fall in the war, and the re- 
sponsibility and care of the three children rested 
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FI O P E 


heavily on her shoulders. She had been left with 
three negroes after the emancipation proclamation, 
the twenty other slaves having gone at once, and it 
was almost impossible to work the large farm 
properly. 

Agatha kissed her aunt and the girls affection- 
ately. Their city cousin, as they called her, repre- 
sented to them all that was fine and cultured in the 
larger world of which they knew little. 

“ Aunt Amanda,” said Agatha, handing her the 
letter, when the greetings were over, “ father sent 
this to you. He wants you to let Judith go back 
with me to-morrow.” 

Mrs. Wordsworth shook her head as she sat down 
in the summer-house and tore open the envelope. 

The girls gathered about Agatha, asking her 
questions, begging her to tell them all about the 
bombardment. They had heard the noises, and at 
night could sometimes see the bright lights shooting 
through the sky. They listened breathlessly to her 
words, as she told them many of the details of her life 
in town, and when she described the caves the people 
were digging, they were filled with excitement. The 
younger ones turned to their mother and besought 
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her to let them all go back with Agatha and live in a 
cave. 

Mrs. Wordsworth folded up the letter slowly, and 
sat silently looking before her with an anxious look 
in her eyes. 

44 You are going to let Judith go back with me, 
Aunty, aren’t you ? ” Agatha asked, wondering what 
her father had written to make his sister look so 
sad. 

44 Oh, look, it’s beginning to rain ! ” one of the girls 
exclaimed. 

44 Then we must go into the house at once,” said 
Mrs. Wordsworth, rising quickly as if glad of the 
opportunity to evade Agatha’s question. 

The two elder girls led the way back to the house, 
swinging in each hand a big tin bucket filled with the 
bright red fruit. 

Jeremiah was standing with his horse’s rein in his 
hand, ready to return to the town and carry any mes- 
sage they might wish to send. 

Mrs. Wordsworth walked up to him, saying in a 
low tone, 44 Tell my brother that I will do what he 
wishes. You had better go at once.” 

She waved him off and went into the house. The 
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girls were all sitting on the porch sheltered from the 
rain, and they were still putting questions to Agatha 
faster than she could answer. 

“ Oh, cousin Agatha,” said Lucy, the elder of the 
two little girls, “ don’t you think it would be fun to 
live in a cave ? I do wish we could.” 

“ Well, I don’t believe you’d like it as much as you 
think,” Agatha replied. “ Melinda says it’s horrid. 
It’s damp and cold, and the lamps smell. Besides, 
you couldn’t run about as you do here, or feed the 
chickens, or anything.” 

“I shouldn’t mind about the chickens,” said Ju- 
dith, laughing. “ If that greedy old Ruffletop 
doesn’t stop stealing the other chickens’ food, I know 
what ’ll happen to her.” 

“Don’t you dare touch Ruffletop, Judith,” said 
Lucy indignantly. “ Why, cousin Agatha, she comes 
running when I call her, and eats right out of my 
hand.” 

“ Yes, you’ve made her greedy — horrid old Brah- 
mapootra.” Judith was in a teasing mood. “ Most 
too tough for soup, I should say.” 

“ Judith, you’re just as mean as you can be.” 
Lucy’s eyes snapped as she defended her pet. 

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“ Never mind,” said Agatha, 44 I’ve got some red 
ribbon in my box that’s just the colour for two little 
girls I know.” 

44 Oh, cousin Agatha ! ” It was Kitty’s turn to be 
interested. 44 Our hair ribbons are a disgrace, and 
as for the dolls, poor things, I’m ashamed to have you 
see them.” 

44 Next time I come, I’ll bring something for them, 
but it won’t be much, I’m afraid.” Agatha put her 
arm around Kitty as she spoke and kissed the little 
face under the flapping sunbonnet. Both children 
nestled close to her, chattering like small birds. 44 Do 
tell me how the cats are,” she asked, 44 and are there 
any new kittens ? ” 

44 No, but there are lots of pigs,” said Lucy. 
44 Kitty wanted to name one after you, but I said 
Agatha wasn’t a good name for a pig ! ” 

44 1 should think not,” cried Judith. 44 Imagine 
Agatha grunting ! ” It was indeed difficult to 
imagine, and they all laughed. 

44 Why do you suppose mother won’t let me go back 
with you? ” Judith went on. 44 Of course there’s lots 
to do here, but I do think she might when Uncle has 
asked me to come ! ” 


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“ Everything is different now, you know,” said 
Agatha dreamily. Her thoughts turned to the men 
whom she had seen running that afternoon. The 
incident had impressed her curiously. 


86 


XII 


WHILE Agatha was telling them of her experience 
on the way out, Mrs. Wordsworth joined them. 

Aunt Charity, their old mammy, had brought a 
tray of things from the kitchen, and was preparing 
to set the supper table when Judith exclaimed : 

“ See that man running, mother ! Who do you 
suppose he is ? ” 

A man had suddenly come into view at the end of 
the lawn and was running swiftly toward them. The 
two little girls ran into the house, frightened by his 
haggard and wild appearance. 

He wore a grey uniform, wet in places with dark 
purplish spots. When he reached the steps he fell 
exhausted, gasping for breath. 

“ They have — beaten — us,” he said brokenly. 
“ They — are — coming — this way. We tried — to 
hold them back — at Big — Black. Burnt the bridges 
— but they are — getting across — by now. Water — 
quick! I must get — into town — before night — to 
warn them.” 


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Every nerve in his body seemed to have reached its 
limit. He drank the water that was handed to him in 
one gulp, and struggled to his feet unsteadily. 
“ You’d better hide your silver stuff,” he said. “ The 
Yankees will be here before morning.” 

He pulled himself together and staggered off, fall- 
ing into a run as he got back into the road. 

The group of women stood as if turned to stone. 
Agatha ran to the gate in a stunned way. It had 
been an hour since Jeremiah had left. He must be at 
home by this time, she calculated, and it would be 
madness for her to go home alone at this hour. It 
was entirely dark now, and the rain was falling 
gently but steadily. As she stood undecided what to 
do she became aware that her aunt’s arm was about 
her. 

“ Thank God, Agatha, that you are here! You 
can help us bear this trial. I pray that we shall not 
be driven out of the house.” 

Agatha was not listening. She was planning some 
way to get back to the town before it was surrounded. 
She could not bear to have her father there alone, and 
not be able to get to him. 

Mrs. Wordsworth led her into the house. “ You 
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must help me hide the silver at once, Agatha,” she 
said decidedly. “ We must save the little I have 
left.” 

They found the girls were running about in the 
wildest excitement. Judith had cleared the supper 
table and was placing all the silver upon it. They 
all began to wrap up the pieces in heavy, coarse 
paper. 

Aunt Charity brought an old oak chest which she 
placed near the table. “ Fur de Lawd’s sake, what’s 
you wrappin’ up dat stuff fer? You ain’t got time 
fer dat. Give it heah.” She grabbed the heavy 
candelabra from the table, and threw them into the 
bottom of the box. Then she took the coffee urn and 
teapot, and treated them in the same way. Mrs. 
Wordsworth did not stop her, and presently the box 
was filled and the top securely nailed on. Then 
Judith called the negro man in from the kitchen. 

“ William, take this chest to the cow lot and bury 
it. I will show you the place,” said Mrs. Words- 
worth. “ Come, Agatha, you can hold the umbrella, 
while I tell him what to do. Girls, get together what- 
ever you need and take it upstairs, but don’t lose any 
time. They may be here any moment.” 

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Old Charity led the little procession, lighting the 
way with a flickering lantern. William followed, 
carrying the heavy box on his shoulder, while Mrs. 
Wordsworth and Agatha came close behind them. 
The situation was too fraught with alarm for them to 
see any humour in it. They walked solemnly along 
down the lawn, through the stable, where the cows 
were dozing comfortably, and finally stopped at a 
secluded spot. 

They stood on the slippery ground, watching the 
negro dig the deep hole. The dim lantern light flick- 
ered upon their drawn, frightened faces, until at last 
the work was finished, the ground filled in, and 
trampled over to make it look undisturbed. 

Suddenly through the mist they heard the loud 
call of a bugle followed by the steady marching of 
many feet. Charity blew out the lantern quickly, and 
they groped their way back to the house. 

Judith rushed from the steps that led upstairs, and 
fled to her mother’s arms. 

“ Oh, mother, there is a great crowd of men passing 
on the road. I was looking out of the window 
upstairs when I saw a lot of torches go by — I 
couldn’t see very distinctly, the rain is misting so — 
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but there were men on horses and great heavy 
wagons. They all had grey uniforms, and were 
going toward the town as fast as they could. Oh, 
mother, do you suppose they will stop here P ” 

“ No, child, it must be the retreating army hurry- 
ing into the town for safety. We needn’t be afraid. 
They will not stop anywhere to-night.” 

She spoke calmly, trying to keep the children from 
becoming frightened. There was a control, a dig- 
nity about her, that Agatha had never noticed before 
— a capacity for management — a steadiness of nerve 
that had its influence upon the others. 

They could hear distinctly now the clamour of 
the retreating army. There were loud bugle calls, 
voices calling hoarsely in the darkness, drums beating 
the companies into line, and heavy artillery and 
wagons were crunching along the road, with a groan- 
ing noise as the wheels bore the heavy weights over the 
uneven places. 

The incessant soft patter of the rain on the roof 
blended the whole group of sounds into one hurrying, 
throbbing, rushing tramp, tramp, tramp ! 

Agatha went upstairs into the low half-story room 
and looked out of the window for a long time. She 
91 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

could see nothing but the twinkle of the lights as the 
army marched steadily by. 

Mrs. Wordsworth with the girls and old Charity 
were in the dining room ; they had put out the lights 
to avoid attracting attention. 

The two children were already asleep wdth their 
heads in Charity’s lap ; and Judith was drowsing on 
a sofa. Mrs. Wordsworth and Agatha alone were 
conscious of the suspense overhanging them. 

A few logs burned in the open brick fire-place, and 
Agatha pulled up a stool to the fire beside Mrs. 
Wordsworth. They gazed silently into the dying 
embers, the only sounds being the peaceful breathing 
of the children, the steady downpour of rain, and the 
tramp of the multitude without. 

As the hours passed on, the noises grew less, until 
only now and then came a bugle call that sounded far- 
off in the distance. 

Agatha sat with wide-open eyes, her mind too alert 
for sleep. She was planning to get back into the 
town, in the early morning, and felt sure that Selim 
could take her at all risks through the most closely 
guarded ground. She unconsciously twisted a large 
ring upon her finger as her thoughts flew on, and in 
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her abstraction it fell with a tinkling sound upon the 
hearth. Mrs. Wordsworth looked up and glanced at 
the ring as Agatha replaced it. 

“ It is a pity you forgot to put that in the chest. 
It is too handsome for the rogues to overlook. You 
know they are taking everyone’s jewelry.” 

Agatha looked at the ring affectionately. “ I 
don’t believe I could get along without it, Aunty. It 
has never been off my finger before, except when it 
was being enlarged. I wonder if there can be any 
significance in that? ” 

A sad expression came into her eyes. 

66 Yes, I know how fond you are of it,” said Mrs. 
Wordsworth. “ I remember when your father brought 
home three of. them with him from New Orleans one 
year for you and Edward and Jordan. When the 
boys disappeared he thought they would be clues to 
identify them, as he has often told you. But it never 
seemed to help in finding them.” 

Agatha sighed and turned the ring toward the fire 
light. It was made of heavy gold filigree, and black 
enamel encircling a large piece of agate. The flat 
surface of the stone was carved with initials. 

“ I remember that dreadful day so well, Agatha,” 
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Mrs. Wordsworth went on. “We had been having a 
family reunion, and we were all in the happiest of 
humours. Your father came into supper late in the 
evening and told us that a party of gamblers had 
murdered a man in the town the night before, and 
that the citizens had finally tracked them to the cave 
in the hill back of your house. They were going to 
be forced out of the cave that night and shot down 
as they came out. You can imagine how excited we 
were! Your mother ran at once to see if you all 
were safe. When she came back I have never seen 
anyone look as despairing. Your brother Edward, 
and your cousin Jordan, were nowhere to be found. 
No one had seen them since late in the afternoon, 
when Jeremiah had noticed them playing in front of 
the cave. Of course we all knew what had happened 
and your father and the men went straight down to 
the cave. We women stayed with your mother, try- 
ing to comfort her. That look of despair never left 
her face, even when your father was brought back 
wounded; she scarcely seemed to notice it. And as 
you know she did not live very long.” 

Mrs. Wordsworth stopped. 

A pale streak of grey had sifted in through the 
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THE HEART OF HOPE 

closed shutters. The rain had ceased. A hushed still- 
ness overspread the world. The chilling, ghostly 
hour before the daybreak had come. 

Rising, she peered out between the slats of the 
shutter. Agatha saw her tremble a little, as if 
the cold air had chilled her. She noticed the fierce 
light that burned in her eyes as she turned around. 

“ Wake the children, Agatha,” she said. “ They 
have come.” 


95 



BOOK THREE 


Heart of Hope 





I 


THE sound of voices on the porch came to Mrs. 
Wordsworth as she walked out into the hall. Taking 
down the heavy piece of timber that barred the door, 
she opened it and looked out. 

Three men in blue uniforms pushed their way by 
her hurriedly and entered. 

“We are only women here,” she said with calm 
dignity. “We are unprotected and throw ourselves 
upon your mercy.” She stepped back a little, making 
way for them as they entered. 

They made no reply, taking no notice of her, as 
they went about hurriedly, examining each room. 

The house was built of logs, closely fitted together 
and making tight, weather-proof walls.. It had been 
made for protection and security, not for artistic 
effect, and there was no inside plastering or finishing. 
The broad halls formed a cross, each corner a room, 
with two doors opening into it. 

“ This will do, Smith, we can use it to advantage 
as a hospital. Get back to the road at once and 
send the ambulances over here. Tell Osterhaus we 
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HEART OF HOPE 


have found a good place for our needs. Find all the 
men that are used up, and get them over here out 
of the way. Send me all they can spare to get the 
place in shape. Clear the women out. Tell them they 
can roost upstairs.” 

These orders came from one of the men, as he 
passed quickly from one room to another. He 
planned the use of each part of the house for his pur- 
poses, quickly, decidedly, showing himself to be a 
master in his work. His companions made no sug- 
gestions but noted and remembered orders. 

As they entered the room where the girls were 
gathered, Agatha rose from her seat by the window, 
and stood waiting any remarks they might address 
to her. She had never known anything but courtesy 
from men, and it was a shock when she noticed that 
they did not take off their caps in the presence of 
women. Experience had not yet taught her that 
politeness is dispensed with in war. 

Two of the men stared at her in astonishment. 
One of them touched the other’s arm. 

“ Gad, what a beauty ! Did you ever see such 
eyes ? ” he whispered to his companion. 

Agatha heard him. A quick blush dyed her face, 
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leaving her paler than usual. She instinctively felt 
for the pistol concealed in her dress. She still wore 
her riding habit, not having changed during the 
night except to leave off her hat. 

“ So you are preparing to leave us, my beauty,” 
the man said to her, noticing her dress. 

Her eyes flashed at the insulting familiarity, but 
the remark held out a gleam of hope to her. She 
put aside her anger and spoke to them. 

“ Do you think I can get safely into town if I 
leave at once ? ” she asked, her f ace lighting up. 

The men turned to each other and laughed. 

“Well, I guess not,” said one with a grim chuckle. 
“ Your town is surrounded by now, if it is not already 
in our hands. The best thing for you to do is to 
stay here. We don’t mind.” 

Agatha sat down again, the light gone out of her 
face. 

The men went into the adjoining room, a long bed- 
room which formed an arm to the square house. She 
could hear them talking, one giving orders to have 
tables brought in and the place arranged for an 
operating room. They with a business-like precision 
disposed of the opportunities the house offered. 

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Mrs. Wordsworth told Charity to take the girls 
upstairs, but they could scarcely be persuaded to 
leave the window where they were watching intently 
the busy scene in the yard. 

A troop of cavalrymen had rushed in from the 
lane and were filling the yard rapidly. Some had 
dismounted and were lying on the grass, others 
were galloping about wildly. The fence on the side 
towards the road was being torn down, and a motley 
crowd of men were pushing their way towards the 
house in noisy confusion. The whole place seemed 
to have been crowded in one moment with a mass of 
bluecoats, swarming about like bees. 

Depredation and wanton destruction were going 
on everywhere. The soldiers, half mad with their 
wounds and hunger, rushed about from one place 
to another, seeking anything they could find to eat 
or appropriate. They went into the smoke-house, 
and rolled out barrels of molasses and meal, throw- 
ing great quantities of hams and salt meat about on 
the ground, the barrels breaking open and the con- 
tents mixing in disgusting masses. 

In the barnyard a crowd had run the chickens 
through with their bayonets, marching back to the 
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lawn with their trophies held high in the air. Others 
cut off the heads of pigs with their swords. The cows 
were driven out of the stable and shot down without 
object or reason. Everyone seemed to be in a riot 
of excitement. The sound of the battle had not yet 
died in their ears. They were still following the im- 
pulses of their aroused barbaric nature. 

“ Guess I’ll have enough to eat for one time,” 
said a big fellow, with a ham under each arm. 

“ It takes a lot to fill up that long carcase of 
yours,” cried another. 46 But you ain’t hog enough 
to need two hams, now come ! ” 

“Plenty more where those came from, partner,” 
was the reply. “ You’re slow, that’s all,” and he hur- 
ried on with his plunder. 

Yells rose above the din. Uproarious laughter 
came from groups breakfasting under the trees, 
their canteens held up to their mouths. The well, at 
the end of the garden, was surrounded by a jostling 
crowd that upset and spilled the water buckets in 
their attempts to get the cooling draught. Some had 
already begun to dig holes in the ground, searching 
for hidden treasures. Officers rushed about trying 
to control the confusion, to subdue the men into 
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a semblance of order. It was impossible, the blood 
had to cool in their veins before they would give way 
to any quieting influence. 

Agatha stood at the door a moment before follow- 
ing Mrs. Wordsworth up the steps. 

A party of men wearing gold epaulettes were 
standing on the porch. They were conferring about 
some plan, their heads close together. A sentence 
arrested Agatha’s attention as she stepped to the 
door. 

“ Can’t do it, sir, my horse is fagged out, and 
I don’t know where to find another. Matthewson 
has gone to see if there is anything here I can 
ride.” 

Agatha felt as if her heart had stopped beating. 
A weak feeling of utter dejection crept upon her. 
The certainty that Selim would be found made her 
almost faint. 

“ By Jove, look what the fellow has found,” cried 
the man with the epaulettes. 

He spoke with a thick German accent, his florid 
face and light hair indicating his nationality. 

Agatha followed with her eyes in the direction in 
which he pointed, and her fears were realised. A man 
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led Selim slowly through the crowd, winding in and 
out among the groups under the trees. 

The horse was looking handsomer than ever, his 
glossy coat shining brightly in the sun. 

Agatha’s eyes opened wide as she looked at the 
man leading the horse up to the group of men. He 
was tall and slender, and carried his head thrown back 
a little as if proud of the service he was performing 
for his commander. His face was familiar to her. 
Where had she seen him before? 

Agatha waited a moment and then ran swiftly down 
the steps to the horse. She took hold of the bridle, 
the horse rubbed his head against her, nickering 
happily. 

The man still held the other side of the bridle, 
and they stood this way for a few moments, looking 
steadily at each other. 

The crowd on the porch had stopped talking and 
a few of the soldiers had come up and stood in 
groups watching the outcome. They thought there 
would be a scene — some hot words they felt sure. 
The girl’s bearing and face showed her determina- 
tion. 

Agatha broke the silence. 

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“ This is my horse. What are you going to do 
with him?” The man was still looking at her 
steadily. She felt that his eyes were burning her 
face. She saw sorrow and a deep pity in them. When 
he had spoken, he looked towards the group on the 
porch. The general nodded his head. 

“ I was ordered to bring this horse to the general,” 
he motioned towards the porch. 

Agatha’s breath was coming hard. 

66 Then you steal when you are commanded. You 
—thief!” 

A dark flush came into his face. She could see 
the teeth sink into his lip. 

“ I obey orders when I am commanded.” 

His voice was firm and cold. In accent it recalled 
something to her which she could not place. The 
group on the porch grew impatient. Everything 
had been too quiet to suit them. They had expected a 
scene, but this was only a man and woman talking 
without excitement. A jeering laugh came from the 
crowd. 

46 And that man is going to take him? ” Agatha’s 
voice sounded dull and hollow. The hope had gone 
out of it. “ Yes,” the man replied. “ Will you move, 
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please? ” She thought she had detected a look of 
sympathy in his eyes, but his voice convinced her 
that she was mistaken. She looked at the crowd. 
Not one face spoke encouragement. 

She put her arm around the horse’s neck and gently 
pulling his head down, kissed him. 

At the same time a sharp report rang out. Selim 
knelt down quietly, and lying comfortably out on 
the ground, stretched his neck until his head touched 
Agatha’s feet. The men on the porch ran towards 
them, the soldiers gathered about closely, shutting 
in Agatha and the man with a ring of infuriated 
faces. 

“ Take the pistol away from frer,” they yelled. 
“ Run her into the house. Down with the rebel.” 

The girl stood dazed. The thought of killing 
Selim had come to her as a last resort, and in the 
same moment she had pulled the pistol from her dress 
and pressed the trigger. Jeremiah had once told her 
the spot that would kill a horse instantly and now 
she remembered it. It seemed to her an age before the 
horse fell. She felt that he would never reach the 
ground and lie still. The excited talk of the men 
around her seemed a thousand miles away. She looked 
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HOPE 


around blindly, seeing nothing but the man’s sympa- 
thetic look, as he stood beside her pushing back the 
crowd. 

46 Better give me the pistol now. I will bring it 
back to you,” he whispered to her. 

A little nervous laugh escaped her. 

46 1 swear it,” he said quietly. He took the pistol 
from her unresisting hand and slipped it into his 
hip pocket. Then, taking her by the arm, he urged 
her along towards the house. He led her to the door 
that opened into the enclosed staircase, leading up- 
stairs. She stumbled into the dark passage and he 
closed the door after her. 

44 Lock it, Matthewson,” an officer called to him. 
44 We’ve got a dangerous lot of rebels here evi- 
dently. Keep your eyes on them and don’t let them 
come down from up there for any consideration.” 

The young man received his orders with apparent 
indifference. Then he walked down into the swarming 
crowd of soldiers, his head held high above them. 

An expression of loathing had come into his eyes. 


108 


II 


HOW Agatha got to her room she never remembered. 
The steps had been to her a black precipice, which 
she climbed for years before she reached the top, 
and away off somewhere she found a bed and fell 
across it. She lay there staring steadily up at the 
ceiling and mechanically counting the stars on the 
crude wall paper over and over again. Finally her 
strained nerves snapped and the tears came. 

She remained there all day, sobbing softly to her- 
self. The children came and begged her to talk to 
them, but she never seemed aware of their presence. 
Judith and Mrs. Wordsworth also tried to calm her, 
but they soon saw that the tears would be better for 
her, so they left her alone. 

The mingled noises from the yard came to her in 
her half-conscious state, like the roar of a water- 
fall, drowsy, sleep-giving, in its steady sound. She 
thought of nothing, her mind seemed a blank. 

Towards the late afternoon she thought she had 
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been asleep. A deep moaning sound seemed to be 
surrounding her. She believed it was a dream, caused 
by the nervous state she was in. But it kept up, in- 
sistently penetrating her very being. 

Suddenly she opened her eyes and looked about 
her. She realised at once that she had not been 
asleep. The moaning still came to her through the 
open window. Another sound had been added to it. 
In a higher key a shrill cry was heard above the long 
moan. She raised herself in the bed and listened. 
It seemed to be increased. She got up and walked 
unsteadily to the window. 

At first, when she looked out, she put her hands 
over her face with an exclamation of horror, but 
an irresistible fascination made her drop them 
again. 

A long row of men were propped up against the 
house. They seemed helpless and unable to move. 
Their faces were blackened and running with blood. 
One man was sitting bolt upright, with both legs 
gone above the knee. Where they had been was a 
mass of torn cloth and bleeding flesh. Another had 
torn his shirt entirely away, the blood gushing from 
a wound in his breast. And the others all down the 
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line, were in like condition ; some in their agony 
writhing about on the ground, twisting themselves 
into queer, unnatural postures. 

A row of wagons was coming slowly into the yard 
where the gate had formerly been. When they 
reached the house, four soldiers stood ready to help 
the men out. 

The beds of the wagons were piled high with the 
bodies of the wounded. They had been thrown in, 
regardless of their suffering. Shrieks and curses 
came from them, as they were dragged out and 
placed on the ground. The men handling them 
had lost all thought of care and sympathy in their 
routine work. It was to them their daily task, to be 
done to-day, to-morrow and so on until the war was 
ended. They felt that they had no time to save a 
man pain, who would probably die in a few hours 
anyhow. 

Where the wagons had stopped the ground had 
become covered with slippery, clotted blood. Strange 
words came to Agatha, as she stood spellbound look- 
ing down on the scene. 

“ Ruin, desolation, death,” kept ringing in her 
ears, and she unconsciously put her hands up to 
111 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

shut out the sound. With an effort, she pulled her- 
self away from the window. 

When she looked back in the room, a man was 
standing just inside the door. His face was red and 
coarse, with a leering smile, which displayed broken 
blackened teeth. The glassy eyes showed him to be 
under the influence of liquor. Tobacco and dark 
red spots covered his soiled blue clothes. He was 
advancing carefully towards Agatha, walking slowly 
to keep from falling. 

She felt for her pistol. Then she remembered the 
scene of the morning. The loss of her pistol came 
back to her with a sudden force. For the first time 
in her life an uncontrollable fear took possession of 
her. Her knees began to give way, and she thought 
she was going to fall. She tried to plan some way to 
ward the man off, to protect herself. Her voice re- 
fused to come when she attempted to speak. 

“ What do you want ? ” She gasped at last. 

The horrible smile was still on his face. He kept 
his eyes fixed on her hands. At last he spoke in a 
thick, maudlin voice. 

“ Gimme that ring you had on this morning. 
There it is.” He pointed gleefully to her finger. 

112 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“ No, you cannot have it,” she answered firmly, her 
voice coming back to her. 

“ By God, I will have it,” he muttered. 

With a quick movement she placed herself behind 
a table, and retreated into a corner, pulling the 
piece of furniture before her. The man followed, and 
leaned across the table. “ I guess I will have it,” 
he kept muttering to himself. 

She stood steadily with her back to the wall, 
her eyes glued upon the man in a fascinated stare. 
He hesitated a moment, then she saw him put his 
hand back to his hip pocket. She knew what that 
meant, and that he would not hesitate to do it. Tak- 
ing her hands from behind her, she loosened the ring, 
and held it out to him in her palm. 

A shadow darkened the doorway and another man 
advanced into the room. She jerked back her hand 
suddenly, and the drunken man drew the pistol out 
of his pocket. But his arm did not raise. A firm hand 
grasped it from behind and held it steadily down. 

Agatha recognised the soldier who had taken her 
pistol from her. He took the drunken man firmly by 
the shoulders and shoving him swiftly out of the 
room, pushed him headlong down the stairs. When 
113 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

the noise of falling ceased he returned to the 
room. 

Agatha had fallen limply into a chair. 

She sat there looking vacantly up at him, her hands 
lying clasped in her lap. Her white face showed the 
strain she had undergone. Dark circles were beneath 
her eyes and a drawn look about her mouth. She 
looked as if something would snap in 9, moment and 
let the overtaxed machine fall asunder. 

The man held out the pearl-handled pistol to her. 
She made no effort to take it as he laid it on the table. 
Her ring slipped from her hand and rolled to the 
floor. He stooped and picked it up, looking at it 
curiously. He turned it over and over, noticing the 
initials engraved in the stone. Unconsciously, he put 
his hand to his breast, as if feeling for something. 
After a while he placed the ring back upon Agatha’s 
unresisting finger and stood looking at her. The 
moaning sound still came through the window, 
her imagination conjuring up more awful things 
than the real scene had shown her. 

“ I am very sorry for you,” the man said. The 
deep tones of sympathy vibrated in his voice. “ Is 
there nothing I can do for you? ” 

114 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


Agatha still looked up at him helplessly. 

“ Only get me home. I shall go mad if I stay 
here.” 

Her voice was that of a weak child. 

He shook his head gloomily. 

“ I am afraid that is impossible, but I will try, I 
will do my best.” 

He stepped forward quickly to catch her. She 
had fallen from the chair to the floor. 


115 


Ill 


AS the night came on the heavy atmosphere of the 
little rooms upstairs became suffocating. Outside 
in the yard the ground still steamed with the heat 
that followed the rain. Disagreeable odours began to 
fill the air. Big fires had been built, the men stand- 
ing and sitting about them in groups eating. Lan- 
terns had been hung on the trees and shed a dim 
light on the still foliage. In the shadows men were 
lying about on their blankets ; some with their backs 
against trees and their caps pulled down over their 
faces, sleeping as soundly as if in bed. 

A large ditch had been dug near the end of the 
house, and a long procession of men walked from the 
house to the ditch and back again. They carried 
boxes, filled with blood-soaked rags and bandages 
from the operating room. These they threw into 
the opening. 

The odour of smoking fires hung low over the place. 
It seemed impossible to get away from it. The 
116 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


moaning was insistent in its continuity, broken now 
and then by a staccato shriek. 

Mrs. Wordsworth sat beside the children, in the 
cramped low-ceiled room. The house had become 
permeated with the odour of chloroform, from the 
rooms below. The heat and moisture had brought 
flies and mosquitoes into the house in a swarm. The 
two little girls were lying upon the rough bed, toss- 
ing restlessly in slumber, while Mrs. Wordsworth 
fanned them with a large palmetto fan, and Charity 
stumbled about trying to drive out some of the 
flies. 

They had undressed Agatha, when she fainted, 
and put her to bed, where she now lay sleeping 
beside Judith. A constant noise disturbed them, an 
irregular moving about and shuffling of feet, which 
made sleep almost impossible. 

With the first grey of dawn Judith got up and 
went to the window. A blood red sun rose from the 
hills, and in a few moments the certainty of blis- 
tering heat was added to the already complete horror. 

Judith dipped a towel in a jug of water and gently 
moistened Agatha’s face. The cool cloth refreshed 
her, and she opened her eyes, smiling at Judith. 

117 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

But as she awakened came the awful remem- 
brance, and she buried her face in her hands and shud- 
dered. Presently she got up and bathed her face 
in the tin basin. Feeling calmed and strengthened, 
she straightened herself resolutely. If this horror 
had to be gone through she determined to be strong 
enough to battle with it. She had seen the worst, 
for nothing could be more horrible than that line of 
wounded men. She shuddered again as the picture 
came back to her, but the hope of getting back home 
gave her courage. 

Having dressed herself with composure and en- 
ergy, she stood by the window to comb her hair, 
and looked down into the yard, at the slumbering 
army. 

A man was walking about between the groups, with 
a bucket of water, and as the men called to him he 
would stop and hand them a dipper of the refreshing 
draught. 

As Agatha looked about her, the sight seemed 
one that she had always looked upon. Every little 
detail seemed familiar, and the one day’s horror 
seemed to have blotted out every other memory. 
Even the moaning of the wounded came to her now 
118 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


as a sound she had always heard. It was the voice 
of her confidant, the river, that she had never under- 
stood. It was suffering. It was 44 ruin, desolation, 
death.” 

She turned away and spoke to Judith, who had 
brought her one of her white frocks. 

44 It will be so much cooler, Agatha,” Judith said, 
44 And even if it does not fit, what difference does it 
make ? ” 

Agatha willingly accepted the suggestion, and she 
and Judith struggled a long time with the frock. It 
was entirely too small for Agatha, and when she had 
forced her arms into the sleeves, and pinned it to- 
gether in the back, they both laughed at her absurd 
appearance. 

Their merriment jarred upon Mrs. Wordsworth 
and brought her to the door in wide-eyed astonish- 
ment. But when she looked at her niece, and found 
her recovered enough to be up and dressed, she smiled, 
marvelling at the recuperative power of youth. 

With the sun, came the reveille, and the army woke. 
The roar of many voices rose again, the din of 
rattling cans, the loud calls, and the crackling sound 
of fires. 


119 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Old Charity had gone to the well for water, and 
returned, with many stories of what she had seen. 
She talked on in great excitement, until a sudden 
thought stopped her. 

“ Lord, missus,” she said, holding up her hands, 
“we aint got a bit of vittles for breakfast.” 

Mrs. Wordsworth rose, in consternation. 

“What are we going to do?” she said, looking 
about her helplessly. 

“ I tell you,” the old negro said, “ dar’s a man 
down in de smoke-house, what is handin’ out things 
to all de men. Why won’t he hand dem out to me, 
too, if I goes dar just like dem others? I asked one 
of de men who he wuz, and he told me he wuz the com- 
serry. Dat is egzactly what he called him.” 

Mrs. Wordsworth thought over the situation, and 
then said, “ I can’t see but one thing for us to do, 
and that is to ask the commander in charge here to 
give us food. They surely will not starve us. I 
wonder which of us had better go ? ” She looked to 
Agatha and Judith for assistance. 

Agatha felt that this opportunity might help her 
to form some plan of escape and her hopes rose. 

“ I will go, aunty,” she said quickly. She feared 
120 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


that Mrs. Wordsworth would object. “I feel all 
right now, and I am not afraid to face all of them.” 

Her aunt considered the matter for a long time. It 
seemed to her the most sensible plan. Judith was 
not brave enough, and it was best for her to be with 
the children. The duty seemed to devolve upon 
Agatha. 

“ Better take Aunt Charity with you, Agatha. 
She will be a great protection, I am sure, and will 
know where to lead you.” 

The negro stood up with alacrity and prepared to 
go at once. 

“ Lend me your sunbonnet, Judith,” said Agatha, 
impatient to be off. “ And Aunt Charity, be sure to 
take two baskets to bring back what we need.” 

“ Lordy, chile, dar aint no baskets here, but I’ll 
git you sumthin’.” 

She went to the bed and pulled the linen cover off 
the bolster; wrapping it into a bundle she put it 
under her arm. “Now, we’s ready,” she said, lead- 
ing the way down the steps in true soldier fashion. 

Agatha kissed them all, and went lightly down the 
steps. She stopped at the bottom while Charity 
called a man from the porch to them. 

121 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


“We are in need of food. Please tell me who I 
am to ask for it ? 99 the girl said. 

He pointed to the door opposite, and without say- 
ing a word returned to the porch. 

Agatha crossed the hall quickly and knocked at 
the door. A loud voice answered, “ Come in,” and 
she opened the door, leaving it ajar behind her as 
she entered. 

A man sat at a table in the middle of the room. 
She remembered him as the one with epaulettes who 
had instituted the search for the horse. 

The table was covered with papers, and small 
pencilled maps. Above the fireplace, on the wall, was 
a rough diagram of the surrounding country, the 
situation of the town and the river. 

The man looked up* as she entered, and grunted 
with satisfaction. She noticed a glitter of humour 
in his light-grey eyes. He leaned back in his chair 
and waited for her to speak. 

“We are in need of food. Will you give it to 
us? ” 

Her voice shook a little as she began. 

“ So you have come a-begging, hey ? 99 He rubbed 
his hands together in a pleased way. “ What would 
122 



ROBBING YOU? ' SHE ANSWERED QUICKLY, HER ANGER RISING INSTANTLY 









T H E 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


you do if I should say no? Wouldn’t you think it 
was only getting even with you for robbing me of 
that horse yesterday ? ” 

64 Robbing you ? ” she answered quickly, her anger 
rising instantly. She controlled herself in a moment, 
and stood waiting silently. 

“Nothing to say to that, have you?” he began 
again. 

She looked calmly out of the window, and waited 
for him to finish. The dignity of her bearing im- 
pressed him. 

He drew some blank paper towards him and began 
to write. 

44 How many of you are there?” he asked, without 
looking up. 

44 Six, counting the darkey.” 

Agatha was standing before the drawing on the 
wall, studying it carefully. There were two striking 
errors in it, and she knew at once that it had been 
drawn mostly from surmise. She was so intent upon 
it that she did not know that the man had finished 
writing and was watching her closely. 

44 You are familiar with it, are you? ” he said, look- 
ing at the drawing. 


123 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“Yes, but it is not correct here. This road ” 

She broke off suddenly. 

The man had risen, and was standing beside her. 

“ Where is it wrong ? ” he demanded harshly. 

Agatha closed her lips tightly and looked him 
squarely in the eyes. He returned her gaze, then 
impatiently shrugging his shoulders, sat down again 
at the table holding the paper he had written in his 
hand. 

“You will not get this order for provisions until 
you tell me,” he said, a note of anger in his voice. 

Agatha came up to the table and rested her hand 
upon it. 

“Is that your opinion of Confederates?” she said. 
“ I’d starve before I would tell you!” 

The man could not keep from showing his admira- 
tion for the girl. He handed her the order, smiling, 
She took the slip of paper which read “ Give to 
bearer enough provisions to last a destitute rebel 
family two days.” 

“ You have made a mistake,” Agatha said, placing 
the paper in front of him again. “ You should have 
written 4 A robbed Confederate family ? in place of 
the other.” 


124 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


The man’s eyes sparkled. He enjoyed her spirit. 
Taking up the pen, he scratched out the words “ two 
days,” and wrote “ one week ” in their place. Then 
he rose and gave her the order. 

“Let me tell you before you go, that I think you 
are a brave girl. I have a daughter at home that 
I would like to be just like you. Won’t you give 
me your hand? You are a foe worth having.” And 
he held out his hand as he finished speaking. 

Agatha drew away from him slightly. 

“No, I can’t give you my hand. You don’t know 
how much more it means to us than to you.” 

He turned away with a shrug and Agatha went 
out of the room, closing the door after her. 


125 


IV 


“ I HAVE the order, Charity. Where is the com- 
missary ? Do you know ? ” 

Charity pointed to the smoke-house, at the other 
end of the lawn beyond the avenue of elms. Agatha 
stopped. It was a greater trial than she had ex- 
pected, to walk down there among the soldiers, so 
close to the horrible sights that she had only seen 
from a distance before. She drew the sunbonnet 
well over her face and urged Charity to walk rapidly. 

They went straight down from the house under 
the great trees. On each side of them were two long 
rows of cots arranged as comfortably as possible 
for the wounded soldiers. The heavy foliage above 
formed a canopy to protect them from the heat and 
rain. It was like a long ward in a hospital, and to 
Agatha the line seemed interminable. 

When she raised her head and looked about her, 
she could see scarred faces with miserable eyes star- 
ing at her. She pulled the bonnet closer and hurried 


on. 


126 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


A few soldiers were standing at the smoke-house 
arguing over what they had received for breakfast. 

“ They had that stuff in the Revolution,” said one. 
“ Good thing my teeth are strong.” 

u Your teeth ain’t the only thing in this camp 
that’s strong,” said another with a sniff of disgust. 
“ God, I wish I was home.” Then seeing Agatha he 
nudged his companions, whispering , 44 Say, there’s the 
girl that shot the horse; she’s a Johnny Reb for sure, 
ain’t she ? ” And as they all laughed uproariously, 
one of them whistled a few bars of a well-known camp 
song. 

Agatha held Charity back for a moment waiting 
for them to finish. Then she went in, and presented 
her order to the commissary. 

He was clad only in a torn undershirt and trousers 
and looked amazed when Agatha came in. The room 
was fearful in its heat and closeness and the smell 
of rank food permeated the place. 

The man turned indifferently, and began weighing 
out some flour. 

44 What are you going to carry it in ? ” He asked 
the question of Charity, who was standing by, watch- 
ing him closely. She proudly unrolled the bolster 

127 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

cover and began to tie one of the ruffled ends with a 
heavy cord. 

“We’s gwine pack dem vittles in dis heah bag,” 
she began proudly. “Now you, sir, puts de flour 
heah fust.” 

She indicated the tied-up end. 

The flour was poured into it, Agatha holding the 
ends well apart to keep the precious food from being 
wasted. 

Charity tied a heavy cord above the flour, making 
it a separate division from the rest. 

“ Now, suh,” she said, when she had finished, “ you 
puts de meal heah.” 

The meal was then poured into the compartment 
already prepared for it. The man smiled at the 
ingenuity of the old darkey, and began to cut off a 
piece of salt meat. Old Charity stood up and 
watched him as he portioned this important part of 
the supplies. 

“ Lawd bress yer, man,” she said, noticing the meat 
did not have a strip of lean in it. “ Yer ain’t gwine 
gib dat stuff ter white folks, is yer? Dat’s what us 
niggers libs on, down heah.” 

“Then it’s good enough for them, old lady,” he 
128 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


said, nodding towards Agatha, who turned and walked 
towards the door, leaving Charity to superintend the 
remainder of the provisions. 

A measure of coarse beans was put in after the 
meat and tied up. Then some sugar, and at the 
end, in a very small compartment, was a little coffee, 
which Charity had begged from the man for herself. 

The precious article had not been on the order. 
The old woman looked carefully over her strange 
bundle. She tugged at it, but could not lift it, and 
the man stood by, laughing. 

44 Seems as if you’ve got more than you could 
carry,” he said aggravatingly. 

44 Miss Agathy, you’ll have to help me.” Charity 
turned to her in a shamefaced way. 44 I can’t pack 
dis by myself. Ketch er holt ob dat end please.” 

She pointed to the lighter end, and Agatha picked 
it up. 

The bundle was very heavy, and they went slowly 
out of the door. A group of men standing near 
began to laugh when they saw the two women 
struggling with the queer-looking bundle. One of 
them called out jokingly, 44 Lady, can’t I carry your 
caterpillar for you?” 


129 


THE 


HEART 


OF HOPE 


Agatha and Charity walked on faster. The jokes 
and laughter of the men irritated Agatha, and the 
bundle seemed to grow heavier and heavier at every 
step. 

44 I shall have to stop a few minutes by the well, 
Charity,” said the girl. 44 If we rest a little, I think 
I can go all the way to the house without stopping.” 

They came to the well, which had a boxed frame 
about it once covered with a vine. The soldiers had 
torn this off in their mad efforts to get at the water, 
and the place looked dirty and neglected. Agatha 
leaned over and looked down into its depths. The 
water was quite low, and only near the bottom could 
she catch a glimmer of the reflected sky. 

It was shady here, and she sat down, glad to be 
protected from the blistering rays of the sun. She 
hated the thought of going back to the house, to the 
awful heat, to the horrible, penetrating odours. 

Charity sat down a little way off, keeping one hand 
tightly closed on her valuable package. 

Two men came across the yard back of them 
towards the well. One carried a large wooden bucket 
on his arm. 

They both hesitated on seeing Agatha, for 
ISO 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


although her face was hidden by the sunbonnet, they 
knew it must be someone from the house. She was 
sitting on the bundle of rope with which the water 
was drawn. They stood still for a moment waiting 
for her to move, but as she remained unconscious of 
their presence the taller man stepped forward, and 
coughed. 

Agatha started up, the sunbonnet falling back 
from her face as she rose. 

46 Oh, it’s you,” she exclaimed, recognising her 
friend of the day before. 

“Yes,” he replied, picking up the rope from the 
ground. 44 You seem to be stronger to-day. You 
don’t remember fainting while I was talking to you, 
do you P ” 

Fie looked at her earnestly as he spoke. 

His face was long and angular, the black eyes set 
deep under a high, broad forehead, from which his 
hair was brushed off carelessly, in a long black wave. 
His skin was tanned a deep brown, the rich reddish 
colour brought by exposure to the wind, but under- 
neath could be detected the naturally pale complexion. 

He wore a fresh white shirt, open at the throat, 
and no coat. As he stood there before her slightly 
131 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


smiling, she could see his strong, white teeth shining 
in the sunlight. The thought came to her again 
that she had seen him before. There was something 
familiar in his appearance, but she was unable to tell 
exactly what. 

As she looked beyond him to the man who had come 
up with him, this impression grew into a certainty. 

The second man was a reflection of the first, 
although his hair was light, his complexion rosy and 
white, and his eyes a clear, clean blue. He looked 
younger and fresher for impressions than the other. 
His face was a little weak, but there was a tender 
expression in his eyes, a sweet look about the corners 
of his mouth. 

She wondered why he had ever gone to war. He 
seemed as much out of place there as herself. 

The older man lowered the bucket into the well and 
began to pull it slowly up. Agatha put her hand on 
the wooden frame and watched it rise. She was 
beginning to feel discouraged because he had not 
already spoken of his promise. What if he had for- 
gotten it! 

He pulled the bucket up and placed it on the 
ground without speaking. 

132 


THE 


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O F 


HOPE 


The younger man had gone over to question 
Charity, listening with amusement to her replies. 
His clear, boyish laugh came to Agatha as she 
silently waited by the well. 

“ Come over here, Silas, and hear this old aunty 
talk.” His voice was soft and musical like a girl’s. 
“ She has the funniest way of carrying provisions 
that I ever saw. Just look. It is like a great big 
snake.” 

“Is it yours?” the man beside Agatha asked, 
pointing towards the bundle. 

“ Yes,” she answered, smiling at the ridiculous 
sight. 

“ One of the soldiers called it a caterpillar and it 
does look like one. We were carrying it back to the 
house and stopped here to rest.” 

He started towards the bundle. 

“ Then my brother and I will carry it for you,” he 
said. “Get hold of the other end, Nathan, and let 
us take it to the house.” 

They picked the bundle up lightly, and carried it 
as if it weighed nothing. 

Agatha and Charity followed, passing again 
through the rows of wounded. The man was still 
133 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


walking up and down with the pail of water, hand- 
ing out the dipper from cot to cot. 

The two men entered the house and did not stop 
until they had deposited the bundle upstairs. Mrs. 
Wordsworth and Judith were frightened when they 
came into the room, but they both began to laugh 
when they saw the stuffed bolster case. 

When Agatha came up the steps, the two men stood 
aside to let her pass and then left the room. She 
looked keenly at the elder brother and followed him 
downstairs a little way. The younger man had gone 
ahead, and they were alone for a moment. 

“ Have you forgotten your promise? ” she asked 
eagerly. She held her breath as she waited for his 
answer. 

“ No,” he replied softly. “ Come to the well this 
afternoon about sundown. I will tell you then what 
I can do.” 


134 


V 


AGATHA counted the hours of the long day, im- 
patiently awaiting the time that was to mean so much 
to her. Her hopes clung tenaciously to the few words 
that the man had said. Evidently he had not for- 
gotten; he was planning some way of taking her 
home. 

The desire to be with her father became more and 
more importunate, and the hope of fulfilling it gave 
her new strength to meet her present trials. 

Accordingly she devoted herself to amusing the 
children, and to cheering Mrs. Wordsworth and 
Judith. 

The heat was becoming almost unbearable and the 
danger of infection from mosquitoes and flies began 
to cau^e them great anxiety. The children especially 
suffered from these pests and from the poor and 
insufficient food. 

To add to the horror of the situation, the soldiers 
had begun to dig a long trench at one side of the 
yard, and were throwing the dead bodies of the 
135 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

wounded into it, as fast as they died. No time was 
even allowed for the bodies to cool. Their empty 
places were too badly needed to wait. 

In the afternoon Agatha went softly downstairs 
and looked out into the hall. Everything seemed to 
be quiet. The officers who had taken possession of 
the rooms below stairs had gone on a reconnoitring 
expedition. Those that remained were either out of 
the house or asleep in their rooms. Even the operat- 
ing room was silent for the first time since the 
soldiers had arrived. 

Many of the soldiers had been ordered nearer the 
town, and the rest had calmed down to the routine of 
camp life. The house was now a hospital, with one 
regiment as guard, awaiting further orders. 
f Agatha came out on the porch and sat there for a 
long time, undisturbed, except for one man, who 
came up and sat down on the steps a little way from 
her. His arm had been shot off at the shoulder, and 
he was so tortured by flies that he rose and walked 
away. She could see him, moving about from place 
to place, vainly seeking relief from their irritating 
persistence. 

Agatha looked at the bright sky several times im- 
136 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


patiently. He had said meet him at sunset. The sun 
always seemed to be in the same spot, hung in the sky 
like a red demon. She sat down again and waited. 
Could it be possible, she thought, that only two days 
had elapsed since she had left her home? It seemed 
to her a lifetime. She wondered if she had changed ; 
if the mental metamorphosis showed in her face. She 
got up, at the thought, and walked into the hall, 
where she knew a mirror hung. She looked into it 
intently, for a long time. 

Yes, there was a change. There was a new look in 
her eyes. The expression had changed from soft- 
ness to an unfathomable depth. Everything that had 
happened in her life, everything that was to happen, 
seemed to lie within her eyes. Experience and char- 
acter were showing themselves. The dormant soul 
had awakened, and was influencing her body. 

As she gazed at her own reflection the past came 
up before her in its simple nothingness. Her 
hemmed-in life, her childish experiences, all appeared 
to her as they really were. 

The memory of her relationship with Robert 
sickened her. It seemed so weak to have imagined 
that she had felt deeply. This facing of death, this 
137 


THE 


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HOPE 


overwhelming insight into the depths of suffering 
and despair had warped her sense of valuation, as it 
were. She was looking about her through glasses 
that gave a distorted perspective. 

When she returned to the porch the trees were 
casting long shadows on the ground. The flatness 
of the scene which meant that the sun was still high 
had disappeared, and mingling with the shadows 
were long shafts of strong red light. 

She knew that the appointed hour had come, and 
taking up the tin pail which she had brought with 
her as an excuse, she made her way down the lawn 
towards the well. She passed through the long line 
of cots again, but this time she kept her head high, 
and looked before her, beyond these helpless, spent, 
human creatures, to the purple hills. 

She reached the well breathless. There was no 
one there. She waited a little while, and then began 
to lower the bucket slowly, letting the rope out to its 
full length, and waiting to hear the splash that would 
tell her the pail was in the water. She looked over, 
and peered down into the black depths. There was 
no reflected sky there now. The well had been ex- 
hausted. There was no more water. 


138 


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HOPE 


She rested a moment, looking around her, before 
pulling up the empty bucket. 

Two men were standing beside a cot that had been 
drawn a little way from the others, where the sounds 
of talking and moaning were less disturbing. She 
recognised the men and wondered why one of them 
had not come to her. She thought he must have seen 
her come through the yard, yet he took no notice of 
her as she waited there. 

She sat down, resting against the wood frame. In 
a little while he came running towards her. She could 
see that he was pale under the tan. There was a 
miserable expression in his eyes when he spoke to her. 
“ Give me the bucket of water, quick. A man is 
dying and he calls for water all the time and our 
pail is empty.” He spoke hurriedly, and began draw- 
ing the bucket up from the well. 

“ There is no water,” Agatha said, “ the well is 
empty.” 

He let go the rope, exclaiming : “ My God, is there 
no other place to get it? ” 

He looked around the yard helplessly. 

“ The pond.” The girl pointed towards the pas- 
ture. 


139 


THE 


HEART 


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HOPE 


“ That place where the soldiers bathe,” he frowned 
at the thought. 

Agatha hesitated a moment. 

“ There is a jug in my room,” she said slowly, as 
if undecided whether to offer it. 

He looked at her pleadingly. She knew that he 
would not ask her for it. 

“ The man is dying,” he said simply. 

“I will bring it to you,” she said decidedly, and 
hurried towards the house. 

She hated herself for having hesitated. A thou- 
sand ideas had rushed through her mind at the 
thought of giving away the last of the water in the 
house. A scene of intense suffering rose before her, 
where the sun was burning up the earth, and men and 
beasts cried aloud for water. 

When she returned to the well the man had gone 
back to the cot. He seemed to be holding down the 
body that strove to rise. Raising his hand, he 
beckoned to her to bring the water to him. On 
receiving the jug of water from her hand, he poured 
the water into a tin cup, and held it to the dying 
man’s lips. He drank it at one gulp, and opening 
his eyes slowly, stared around with an unintelligent 
140 


THE 


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HOPE 


expression. His face was a dull putty colour, the 
lines and sunken places having taken on a bluish 
tinge. The skin looked pinched and bruised. There 
was a muscular contraction that kept his features 
moving constantly. 

His roving glance fell upon the girl, and remained 
steadily there. A semblance of a smile hovered about 
his mouth. She seemed to recall something pleasant 
to him, and he made an effort to speak to her. She 
drew back a little and shuddered. 

The man standing beside her took her arm in a 
firm grasp, as if to detain her. 

“ Try and do it,” he said pleadingly. “ He wants 
to speak to you. You are a woman and it will be 
such a comfort to him.” 

Agatha nerved herself and went nearer. It was a 
disgusting sight, but the hope that she might be giv- 
ing the suffering man one moment of pleasure gave 
her strength. 

She sat down on a box beside the cot, and looked 
up for a moment at the beautiful canopy of leaves, 
rustling peacefully in the light breeze, then down 
again at the mutilated human being beside her. 

The dying soldier put out his hand and touched 
141 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

hers. She took his hand and held it gently; the 
damp, clammy feeling went to her marrow. 

44 I’m so glad — you came — Mary. Did — they — 
tell you I — I — was dying ? 99 

His words came in long-drawn-out monosyllables. 
His eyes wandered about in uncontrolled movements. 

The young man on the other side of the cot had 
buried his face in the coarse blanket, and was sobbing. 
His bright hair shone golden against the dull grey 
of the covering. 

Agatha did not speak. She placed her hand upon 
the feverish brow, and pushed back the moist hair. 
She tried to keep from looking at him. She was 
afraid he might read the horror in her eyes. 

44 I’m so glad you’ve come,” he rambled on in an 
aimless fashion. 44 It’s pretty here, ain’t it? And 
it’s so green up there. It was so red yesterday. 
Don’t let it get red — again — I — hate red.” 

She raised the cup to his lips, sis he began to moan 
again. 

44 1 haven’t seen anything but that burning light 
for so long. It’s more — peaceful — now.” 

Suddenly the quiet expression gave way to a 
writhing contortion. He pushed himself up on the 
142 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


cot, and sat staring straight before him. His shirt 
fell open, showing his bare breast. It looked as if 
it had been gnawed b}^ wolves. 

“ I see it coming again.” His voice cried out in 
agony. “ It’s red — red — red.” 

He sat bolt upright for a few seconds longer, then 
became perfectly still. He was dead. 

The man beside Agatha leaned over, and lowered 
the body easily to the cot. She sat looking at him 
miserably, the dumb terror in her eyes. 

Kneeling down quickly in front of her, he took 
both her hands in his own. 

66 God ! That a girl like you should have seen all 
this.” Several minutes passed. She felt a strong 
electric current passing from his hands to hers. His 
strength was sustaining her until she regained con- 
trol of herself. 

Presently she rose, and they walked together 
towards the well, the man steadying her with his hand 
upon her arm, both silent. Agatha longed for rest 
— a rest that would help her to think out the meaning 
of it all. 

A party of men came quickly to the cot of the 
dead man, and bore the body off toward the ditch. 

143 


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HOPE 


The only follower was the golden-haired soldier, who 
walked behind with uncovered head. 

“ That you should have seen such sights,” the man 
beside Agatha repeated. His wore an expression 
almost paternal. 

“ It was that thought which made me want to help 
you from the first. I decided to get you away from 
here the morning you came running out of the house 
to protect your horse.” 

Agatha was just beginning to realise what he was 
saying. 

“ The only thing that delayed me was the danger 
to you. Are you willing to risk it? Is it worth 
your while ? ” 

Agatha nodded. “ Indeed it is.” 

The man drew close to her and spoke rapidly. 

“ I am on guard to-night behind the house. Come 
out on the roof of the back porch and I will have a 
ladder ready for you. We shall have to avoid the 
road on account of the camps. Wear something 
white with a cloak over it, so that when we get 
near the guards at the town, they will see it and know 
that you are a woman. I will take you to the Con- 
federate line. Can you get through? ” 

144 


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HOPE 


Agatha listened intently, noting his instructions 
carefully. 

“Yes, I can get through. When shall I be 
ready ? ” 

“When you hear the midnight call?” 

Agatha rose. 

“Why are you doing this?” She turned and 
looked at him keenly. 

“ I have told you,” he replied quietly, returning 
her gaze. 

“ But you are risking your life for me.” 

He laughed — a harsh, short laugh. 

“ I’m doing that every day f or no one. It’s cer- 
tainly better to do it for someone.” 

Agatha picked up the empty bucket and started 
toward the house. 

“ What if anything should prevent you ? ” she 
said. 

“ There will be nothing,” he answered firmly. 

The party of cavalrymen had just returned, and 
the yard was filled with horses, crowding about the 
house, as their riders dismounted. The soldiers 
seemed to be in great excitement, and spoke in loud 
strident tones, as if disagreeing violently. 

145 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

Agatha walked to the porch and passed unnoticed 
through the crowded hall. 

As she went up the steps she heard a man say, “ It’s 
the most wonderful situation I have ever seen. 
There is no possible way of taking the town except 
by a siege.” 


146 


VI 


DARKNESS closed in about the house. The slight 
breeze that had blown fitfully during the day died 
down into a still, palpitating closeness. The lan- 
terns on the trees had been lighted, and shone faintly 
on the man with the water bucket as he went cease- 
lessly in and out between the cots. The bright lights 
streaming from the officers’ rooms gradually went 
out, one by one, until the darkness penetrated every 
corner of the house. 

The heavy breathing of a soldier came from one 
of the rooms on the lower floor, making a queer, 
wheezing noise. 

Agatha sat at the window and looked out into the 
blackness. She had put on the white dress Judith 
had loaned her, and a long, black cloak rested on the 
chair near her. She had said nothing to her rela- 
tives about her expedition. She knew that they 
would not understand that her father needed her more 
than they did, but she felt conscience-stricken at 
leaving them. The remark she had heard had given 
her a clue to conditions in the town. Plans for a 
147 


THE 


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HOPE 


siege were evidently being formed, and she knew 
that her father would be exposed to all kinds of 
danger. 

Eleven o’clock was called by the sentries in a 
dismal chant. 

She then threw the long cloak around her, and 
passed softly into the little hall, stopping a moment 
to listen. Then she tiptoed carefully by her aunt’s 
door to the room where the children slept, guarded 
by the old negress. Charity was dozing comforta- 
bly in a rocking chair beside the bed, still automatic- 
ally moving a large turkey-feather fan over the 
two little girls as they slept. As Agatha passed 
through the room to reach the roof of the porch, 
a plank creaked. She paused again but no one 
stirred, and she soon reached the window. Then she 
climbed softly out, the dry shingles crackling under 
her feet as she touched them. The black cloak 
hid her white gown completely and she sat there a 
long time, staring into the blank, meaningless dark- 
ness. 

As her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she 
could see the top of a ladder projecting just above 
the roof. She let herself slide slowly down to it, to 
148 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

be ready at the moment of the midnight call. The 
intense stillness was broken in the far-off distance by 
a faint hail that grew into a resounding call, full of 
promise to her as it reached a man standing a few 
yards away down in the blackness. The firm, steady 
voice sent it to another sentry, and as the tones beat 
into Agatha’s consciousness, her heart throbbed with 
a new hope. 

The signal given, she began to descend the lad- 
der. When she touched the ground, she looked care- 
fully around her and then ran swiftly to the fence. 

“ Here I am,” the steady voice whispered. 

She had gone a few yards beyond him. He came 
up to her quickly, and took hold of her arm. 

“ Run for that line of bushes over there,” he said, 
pointing to a dark mass beyond the fence. 

“ The watch changes now, so I shall be with you 
in a moment. Go as far as you can, so that we shall 
not be heard.” 

He released her arm, and she ran out into the 
darkness. She went straight ahead, her feet tang- 
ling in the thick wild undergrowth, until she reached 
a clear space on the rise of the little hill. There she 
sat and rested, her heart pounding with the effort. 
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HOPE 


The sentinel was still walking steadily over his 
guarded line. No sign of impatience showed in his 
bearing. Presently the sound of footsteps told him 
his waiting was at an end. 

“You are late, Nathan. You should not have 
kept me waiting. Here, take the gun.” 

“ Has the girl come ?” asked the other. 

“Yes, she is over there by the bushes. It was not 
safe for her to wait here.” 

He held out his hand to Nathan, who took it, in a 
tight clasp. 

“God keep you, brother,” he said. His hand 
shook a little. “If you don’t come back you know 
what I will do.” 

“Hush, Nathan. Sometimes you make me think 
you are a coward. Why couldn’t you get along as 
well, without me, perhaps better? ” 

The other waited a moment before answering. 

“There is no argument about it, Silas; I just 
couldn’t.” 

He took the gun, and began marching up and 
down the ordered space. 

“ Good-bye,” said Silas. “ I shall be back before 
dawn.” 


150 


VII 


SILAS went in the direction Agatha had taken, and 
soon distinguished her white gown in the darkness. 

She rose as he came forward and went to meet 
him. 

“You will have to be the guide,” he said. 

She hesitated and looked, about her into the dark 
woods. 

“ Can we go along the railroad? ” she asked hope- 
fully. “ I can find that way easily.” 

He shook his head. 

“ No. That is guarded, like the road. We shall 
have to go in the untravelled places. I have a com- 
pass. The town, I understand, is directly west of 
us. Is that right?” 

“Yes,” she answered slowly, as she began to plan 
the route by the few striking landmarks she remem- 
bered. 

“ Tell me exactly which is west. I have lost my 
bearings since I left the house.” 

He went to a nearby tree, and stooping down, 
lighted a match in his cap, and held up the compass 
151 


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O F 


HOPE 


to the light. In a moment he came back to Agatha, 
saying : 

44 If we walk in a direct line from this tree we 
ought to get there.” 

They started off, side by side, up the hill. The 
long grass made their progress slow, some places 
being so dry that they almost lost their footing. 
Reaching the top, a thick growth of trees stood for- 
biddingly before them. 

Agatha felt that she could put out her hand and 
touch the darkness that surrounded them, it was so 
black, so opaque. As they passed through the dense 
growth, trees seemed to spring up and bar their 
progress every moment. This necessitated their 
going very slowly, and more than an hour had passed 
before they stood on the brink of a deep valley that 
the girl recognised. 

She led the way down a little path which seemed 
to go in the right direction, but as they descended 
into the valley it was lost in the furrowed cotton field. 
Agatha stopped and turned around. 

44 1 think this is the valley with the creek running 
through it. The road crosses up that way. The 
bridge should be very near here.” 

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HOPE 


Her voice showed the fatigue that was creeping 
steadily upon her, and her feet were swollen and 
burning from the rough, uneven ground. They 
walked along steadily, only the sounds of the night 
about them. 

As they reached the creek in the centre of the 
valley a crisp, rattling sound came to them. Agatha 
pushed her way close to her companion, and caught 
hold of his hand suddenly. 

“ What is it ? ” he whispered. 

“ A rattlesnake,” she replied, in a frightened 
voice. 

A soft laugh escaped him. “ You are such an 
enigma,” he said to her, out of the darkness. “ You 
have stood all the horror of that camp back there, 
and now you are afraid of a snake.” 

Agatha did not reply, but still held tightly to his 
hand. The strong clasp gave her courage. Soon 
the rippling sound of water told them they were at 
the creek. 

Silas knelt down, and felt the ground around them. 
It was soft and damp. 

“ Is it a deep stream ? 99 he asked. 

“ 1 don’t think so,” Agatha answered. “ If I had 
153 


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HOPE 


known that I should ever need these details, none of 
them should have escaped me.” 

Silas broke a long limb from a bush, and dipped 
it into the water to see how deep it was. 

44 It is about up to my waist,” he said. 46 I’ll have 
to carry you across.” 

Turning to Agatha, he picked her up in his arms, 
and stepped into the water which splashed about him, 
as he strode firmly through. The rattle of a snake 
came to them again, this time very near. 

Agatha trembled, and clung closer to Silas. 

44 There is the snake again,” she whispered. 

He smiled to himself in the dark, unconsciously 
holding her tighter. He put her safely down on the 
other side of the creek, and they began walking once 
more. The hill which bounded the far side of the 
valley loomed gloomily before them. The ground 
was covered with a dense growth of weeds, in some 
places waist high. Thistles and brier bushes 
scratched them as they pushed their way through. 

Agatha lagged behind, Silas going in front, and 
separating the dense growth with the heavy branch 
of a tree. 

She called to him to stop, but he did not hear, 
154 ? 


THE 


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HOPE 


because of the noise he was making among the weeds. 
She exerted her utmost strength and followed him to 
the foot of the hill. 

“ I must stop,” she said weakly, and sat down 
upon the ground. 

He took the coat he had been carrying on his arm, 
and smoothed it out, back of her. 

“Lie down here,” he said gently, “and drink a 
little of this coffee. It will strengthen you.” 

He held the canteen to her lips. 

“Now, you are a real soldier,” he said, laughing 
a little, when Agatha had taken several sips of the 
bitter stuff. He threw himself on the ground near 
her, and drawing a pipe and pouch of tobacco from 
his pocket, prepared to smoke. He carefully shaded 
the glare of the match, and soon they both were look- 
ing intently at the warm glow inside the corncob 
bowl. 

“I love your country,” Silas said, puffing slowly 
at his pipe. “ There is something so rugged, so 
careless and easy in these green sloping hills. It is 
strange that it has struck me as familiar from the 
first day I saw it. Our regiment was going up a 
road, scooped out in a long hill, the walls of earth 
155 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


rising on either side, and they all exclaimed at the 
unusual sight. I had never seen anything like it 
myself before, yet it did not seem unfamiliar.” 

His voice came peacefully to Agatha. It was firm 
and clear, yet soft, and he spoke in a regular mono- 
tone, which did not lack expression, yet carried 
with it a restful quality. “ Then you have never been 
in the South before? ” Agatha said. 

“ Never,” he answered, shifting his arms back 
of his head. 

“ I love it, too,” Agatha said, watching tfye moon as 
it came steadily up into the sky. “ I remember once 
when I was in the East, the homesickness that came 
over me. I was shut up in a big city with nothing but 
a continuous stretch of houses everywhere. It was 
spring time, and yet there was no touch of spring 
in the air. It was the first time that I had not been 
at home during that season, and I did so want to 
get out and roam over the hills. In the late evening, 
when the sun is setting in the beech grove, and the 
moon is rising way off over the hills, I love coming 
home in the twilight and passing the old negro 
cabins, where the darkies are cutting up wood and 
getting supper. I don’t believe, even if I were a 
156 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


queen, ruling over some delightful land, that I should 
ever forget that homelike, cheerful sound — the chop- 
ping of wood in the twilight.” 

She seemed to have lost herself in memories, her 
voice gradually growing softer and softer, until the 
last words were whispered, and she closed her eyes in 
a tired sleep. 

Silas moved up closer to her, and leaned over, look- 
ing into her face. She was beautiful in the dim 
moonlight; her face was like marble. He looked at 
it long and wonderingly. 

After a while he rose softly, and looked at his 
watch. He knew the time was slipping by, and that 
they must not be longer delayed, yet he felt it would 
be almost sacrilege to awaken the tired girl. Picking 
her up as gently as possible, he rested her head upon 
his shoulder, and cradling her in his arms, began the 
ascent of the long hill. He was sure that he had not 
awakened her, and chose his steps carefully, so as 
not to be uneven in his walk and shake her into con- 
sciousness. His muscles throbbed with the effort, and 
he rested a moment when halfway up. Agatha’s 
head was lying near his face, her breath coming 
warmly against his cheek. As he felt her heart beat 
157 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


steadily against his, and the tightening clasp of her 
arm about his neck, he was seized with a sudden desire 
to kiss her. 

Just then a loud explosion broke upon the still 
night, and the sky was illumined. At the noise 
Agatha slid from his arms and looked about her in 
a dazed way. 

“ I know where we are now,” she said at last 
slowly. “We must be very near the end of the 
Federal line, for that hill is where I passed the Con- 
federate pickets on my way out.” 

She turned to Silas. He was looking at the shells 
travelling through the sky like comets, leaving long 
tails of light back of them. It was his first view of 
a bombarded town. 

They walked on again, faster now, for Agatha 
seemed to gain strength as she neared her home. 
Another hill was climbed, a valley crossed, and the 
dull glow of a camp fire told them they had reached 
the Federal lines. 

“ Is it possible that that is the space that separates 
the two armies ? ” Agatha exclaimed. 

Silas nodded. 

“ If you are sure that is the Confederate line,” he 
158 


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HOPE 


answered, pointing to the fort across the sunken 
land. They lay down in the long grass, and crawled 
carefully past the camp fire, where the guards were 
drinking, and smoking their corncob pipes. Their 
voices came distinctly to Agatha. She heard one of 
them say something about another attack. She 
stopped a moment listening, but Silas beckoned her 
to come on. They reached a clump of undergrowth 
and stopped to take their bearings. 

They were about halfway between two camp fires. 
Directly in front of them was a rough embankment 
of new earth. A mass of logs and brush covered the 
top of this. Beyond was the short strip of sunken 
ground, the debatable land. 

“The rest is for you to do,” Silas said, after he 
had thought a few moments. “You must crawl up 
to the embankment and slip through. Keep the 
black cloak about you closely and crawl all the way 
over that flat space. Go slowly and carefully. If 
you hear a noise, stop and see what it is. I will stay 
here to prevent the sentinel from doing any harm. 
Now go. No — wait!” He kept his hand tightly on 
hers and held her back. 

A man came steadily marching along by the 
159 


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HOPE 


embankment. Every now and then he stopped and 
peered across the open space of land. Gradually his 
footsteps died out in the gloom toward the next 
camp. 

Agatha made a motion to start and then stopped. 

“ Good-bye,” she said, holding out her hands. 

He held them tightly in his own, looking down 
at her. 

“ I hate to have you go into that doomed city,” 
he said. “I feel as if I were sending you to your 
death.” 

At that moment it looked as if a thousand bombs 
were bursting in the air. The whole sky was illum- 
ined with the lurid light. 

“You think it is best?” he asked. 

“Would you leave the ones you loved best to 
struggle in a whirlpool and not jump in and try to 
help?” 

“No,” he answered decidedly. 

“ Then why do you ask me ? ” 

He still held her hands tightly. They were grow- 
ing cold in his clasp. 

“ Is this all? Is this the end? ” he asked softly, his 
voice shaking a little for the first time. 


160 


THE 


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HOPE 


“ No,” she said, shaking her head. “ You have 
risked your life for me. Can I ever forget it or 
you ? ” 

A question was in both their eyes. He stooped 
and kissed her hands passionately. 

“Now, go. God help you.” 

She crawled rapidly up to the embankment and 
sprang over. 

Everything was still except for the sentinel com- 
ing slowly back, over his beaten track. He stopped 
at regular distances and peered out across the 
embankment. Silas began to crawl slowly towards 
the place where Agatha had jumped through. As 
he lay near it the sentinel stopped there, making the 
usual inspection. His attention was attracted by a 
black object slowly moving across the low open 
ground. After waiting several moments he raised 
his gun, taking careful aim. Silas sprang up and 
throwing both arms around him dragged him to the 
ground before he could even cry out. 

“Be quiet,” Silas whispered, gripping his throat 
with his strong hands. The man did not move. Silas 
took a large handkerchief and gagged the sentinel 
with it ; then, sitting astride of him he tied his hands 
161 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

together with his belt. The man’s helplessness was 
complete when his own belt bound his feet. 

Silas rose, shouldered the man’s gun, and walked 
a little way down the embankment. He stopped at 
an opening and peered out. He could see a faintly 
outlined black object at the foot of the opposite hill. 
He turned back and walked towards the helpless sen- 
tinel. The call of the hour was coming along the 
line. Standing beside the man lying on the ground 
he repeated in a strong voice. “Three o’clock, and 
all’s well.” 

When the call died out down the line he returned 
to the embankment. 

Now he could see plainly a white figure almost at 
the top of the opposite hill. The sound of a woman’s 
voice came softly across on the night air. It was a 
song he had heard some Confederate prisoners sing. 
They called it “ Dixie.” 

The white figure reached the top and stood upon 
the embankment — a spot — silhouetted against the 
dark sky. 

The sharp sound of a rifle came across to Turn, and 
the figure disappeared from view on the other 
side. 


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Silas stood as if rooted to the spot. Could it be 
possible she had been shot by her own people? 

The thought almost drove him mad, and he turned 
and ran wildly back down the hill towards his own 
camp. 

A dead pallor gave the signal of approaching day. 


163 



BOOK FOUR 


Meeting 



I 


NATHAN marched up and down, until the rustling 
awakening noises made him realise that day was ap- 
proaching. He had begun to look about him un- 
easily, when Silas came running towards him, from 
across the road. His face was ghastly in the grey 
light. 

“ What is it? Have you been shot? 99 

He grasped his brother by the shoulder and 
looked at him anxiously. Silas reached out and 
took the gun from Nathan in an exhausted way, 
and began pacing slowly down the line. Nathan 
kept in step beside him. 

“ What is it, Silas ? ” he asked again. “ Why 
don’t you tell me? Did anything happen to the 
girl? ” 

Silas kept his face turned away. He did not want 
to show any signs of weakness before his brother, 
but his lips moved a little unsteadily when he 
spoke. 


167 


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O F 


HOPE 


“ I don’t know, Nathan. The uncertainty of the 
thing has taken the life out of me. If I only knew! 
My God, I must know! But how? That is what I 
tried to think out — a way to hear from her.” 

Nathan followed him slowly, not finding any expla- 
nation in the broken sentences. 

“Did you leave her at the rebel line?” he asked, 
finally, when Silas said no more. 

Silas nodded his head gloomily. 

“ Yes, but as she climbed over the embankment her 
own people fired on her, and she disappeared on the 
other side. She made herself a target, standing up 
there a full minute, while the shot was fired. I stood 
and waited for some sound to come to me, some signal 
to tell me she was safe, but the dead silence maddened 
me, and I ran back here like a wild man.” 

As he stopped speaking, Nathan noticed more 
closely the weariness which seemed to be overpower- 
ing him. The muscles of his face were swollen and 
palpitating. The blood stood in splotches on his 
forehead. His legs moved unsteadily as he walked. 
They had not recovered from the strain that had 
been put upon them. 

Nathan looked at him curiously. He had never 
168 


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O F 


HOPE 


seen Silas in such a condition ; he had relied upon his 
brother for quiet strength and cool decision ever 
since their boyhood. Silas had been his protector 
and adviser, and when they came to go out into the 
world had helped him to fight with the crowd for a 
living. 

“ Do you care that much for her already, Silas? ” 
Nathan asked, surprise showing in his eyes. 

Silas hesitated. 

“ I don’t know yet, Nathan. Everything seems 
mixed up. I don’t know my own mind! What a 
fool I am! ” 

He laughed shortly and leaned against the fence 
for support. 

Nathan jerked the gun away from him. 

“ Go to the tent,” he said firmly. “ I’ll stay here 
until the change is made. You’re dead tired, that’s 
what is the matter.” 

Silas turned reluctantly away, and went into the 
house to notify the officer that his brother would take 
his place until the watch was relieved. Then he 
went across the yard to the little village of white 
tents. 

The sun had risen now, and the soldiers had corn- 
169 


HOPE 


THE HEART OF 

menced to bustle about in front of the tents, some of 
them cooking their breakfasts over the camp fires, a 
crowd of others naked, running across the meadow 
for a bath in the pond. 

Silas went into his tent and threw himself upon the 
cool ground. He pulled the blanket under his head, 
as a pillow, but the heat of it irritated him, and he 
threw it far from him. A bright, yellow glow pene- 
trated through the canvas as the sun rose high in 
the sky. 

He could think of nothing but that silhouette 
against the night sky, and turned to hide his face 
from the light. After a while Nathan came in with 
some cool spring water, and laid a wet cloth upon 
the tired man’s head. In a few minutes he was sleep- 
ing peacefully. 

The day was growing into a blistering heat. 

About noon a man came running down the path 
between the tents. He was shouting hoarsely, re- 
peating the same words to the thousand questions that 
were put to him. Nathan stepped outside the tent 
and listened to him as he ran from one place to 
another. In his pathway was left amazement and 
curiosity — in some places, an awful dread. 

170 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

Nathan turned back into the tent and awoke Silas. 
He opened his eyes quickly and gazed about him 
with a dulled expression. 

Nathan leaned forward and spoke to him. 

“ The camp is ordered to break. We are going 
on the march — to the city. Some of the men say 
we are going to make an attack, but it may not 
be so.” 

Silas sprang from the ground and stood up, 
throwing his head back. His strength seemed to 
have returned. The bright, keen look came back 
into his eyes as he laughed a happy, hearty laugh. 

“ Gad’s, that’s fine, Nathan. The way has come 
to me at last.” 

“ Are you still thinking about that girl? ” Nathan 
exclaimed in disappointment. 

Silas did not reply to the question. The happy 
look was still on his face, as he moved about energet- 
ically, clearing the tent and putting things into 
his knapsack. 

Nathan followed his example, and the tent which 
had sheltered them for two days was soon folded 
again. 

The whole white village was soon laid upon the 
171 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


ground. A long line of wagons began to move 
through, picking up the tents, and poles, and cook- 
ing utensils. Where a few minutes before was a 
permanent-looking settlement was now a black mass 
of debris. 


172 


II 


THE regiment was forming for march in front of 
the house. Officers were rushing about, their gold 
epaulettes and swords sparkling in the sunlight. An 
undercurrent of excitement swept through the great 
body of men. They were impatient to know what 
would be the next move. Questions were on every 
lip. Some expressed interest and satisfaction. Others 
seemed discontented and complained of the march 
before them, in the intense heat. 

Silas broke from the crowd as they were standing 
about, waiting to be formed into marching columns. 
A sudden thought had come to him to tell Mrs. 
Wordsworth that her niece was safe. Ah! could he 
give her that message though. Did he know? The 
question haunted him as he ran up the steps. 

The group of women and children were standing 
by the window, looking down upon the departing 
army. They did not hear Silas step into the room, 
until he knocked upon the open door. 

Mrs. Wordsworth turned a frightened face towards 
173 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


him. There were marks of suffering upon it, and 
the tear stains had not yet dried. They had gone 
to Agatha’s room in the morning and had found her 
missing, with no sign of her whereabouts. They 
thought she must have grown desperate and fled 
away in the night alone. They feared even to men- 
tion her absence to the officers lest it might bring her 
harm. 

Silas stood before Mrs. Wordsworth, his cap in 
his hand. He admired her calm dignity. 

“ I came to tell you that she is safe. The young 
woman who was with you yesterday.” 

Mrs. Wordsworth stepped back in amazement. 

“ You mean Agatha. Where is she? ” 

Silas repeated her name to himself. He had never 
heard it before. 

Mrs. Wordsworth repeated her question. 

He hesitated a moment as the uncertainty came 
back to his mind. 

“ I saw her disappear over the Confederate lines 
at three o’clock this morning.” 

Tears of relief were in Mrs. Wordsworth’s eyes as 
he spoke to her. 

As the sound of a drum came to them through the 
174 


THE 


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O F 


HOPE 


window, Silas turned and left the room hurriedly, 
joining his company in the yard below. 

Then the steady tramp of the soldiers began as 
they marched out from under the soft shade of the 
trees into the glaring, dust-heated road. The long 
line of wounded, lying on the cots, groaned and 
shrieked farewells to their departing comrades. They 
were left out of it all now. 

As the soldiers marched along their feet sank deep 
into the dust that rose in great clouds about them, 
completely obscuring the men a few rows in front. 
The powdered earth covered their uniforms like sifted 
ashes. Their hair became filled with it and their 
teeth gritted with the dry stuff. It looked as if they 
had changed their uniforms for those of their foes. 
Above them burned steadily the metal sun, unob- 
structed, reflecting its blinding copper surface into 
their bloodshot eyes. 

They went steadily along the road, sometimes on 
the top of a long hill, at others in the deep ravines 
where the closed-in heat was fiercer than the full 
glare. Up and down the steep ridges they went, 
until at last a halt was called. 

The officers in front seemed to be holding a consul- 
175 


HOPE 


THE HEART OF 

tation as to the direction. Their voices came to the 
crowd of men in impatient, arguing tones. Finally, 
they were ordered to march to the right, directly 
across the open fields. The marching became more 
broken and irregular, with the unevenness of the 
ground. Water had been scarce the day before and 
a burning thirst was drying up their throats. 

At the brow of a long ravine that sloped down 
deep before them to a small stream in the valley, 
and far off, on the other side, they saw a long line of 
white on the top of the ridge. A shout of joy went 
up from the dry throats. Down the side of the ravine 
they sped and stretching themselves out along the 
banks of the stream put their heads deep down into 
the cool water. 

Their thirst quenched, they began to. anticipate 
seeing the besieging army. 

Grant, Sherman, McClellan were all there, plan- 
ning the taking of the town. Reports of the impreg- 
nable situation of the place, the death traps which 
the surrounding valleys had made for the attacking 
army, the wonderful shower of death that fell into 
the town constantly, had inflamed the imagination of 
the soldiers. They were to go into camp again, but 
176 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 






it was evening before they reached the white city 
of tents and prepared to settle down for the 
night. 

Silas separated from the others and walked over 
the new ground with keen interest. 

In front of him rose the highest point of the ridge 
which they occupied. It was covered with an em- 
bankment made of sand bags, upon which rested 
heavy logs and a quantity of brush. Men were 
working at this protection at different points, 
strengthening the weak places. Far off down the 
line there were hundreds of men working, building 
more protections, hauling logs into place, and dump- 
ing huge bags of sand into the low places. The 
work of defence was being pushed forward with 
rapidity and regularity. Where the men were ex- 
posed the sound of whizzing bullets continually came 
to them from the enemy’s line. 

Silas walked up the slanting ground and stood on 
the ridge of the embankment. Several bullets whis- 
tled by him at once. He laughed and jumped down, 
back of the protection. Walking on to an angle in 
the earthen wall, he stopped at a low place and looked 
out before him. 


177 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


The valley beneath him was deeper than the one he 
had seen the night before, but the two lines of defence 
were even nearer. He could hear the men on the op- 
posite side calling to each other and the camp noises 
came to him distinctly on the evening breeze. 

Beyond the heights opposite he could see a group 
of green trees and hills, rising out of which were the 
roofs of houses. In the midst of them was a tall 
grey building with a clock tower. Beyond it, glis- 
tening crimson in the setting sun, was a large body 
of water that seemed to be winding itself out of a 
vast background of clouds. On either side of the 
foreground the deep ravine stretched out its long 
arms, already dark with the coming night. The lights 
on the scene were changing constantly. One moment 
the bright green trees were lighted up with a bril- 
liant golden glow, in the next moment they were a 
black spot upon the landscape. 

Silas gazed in front of him until the sun had sunk 
out of view behind the distant town. A deep yearn- 
ing was in his eyes, and his lips moved now and then 
with a single word. 

As the darkness shut out the view, he turned and 
walked back to the camp. The group around the fire 
178 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


were having a noisy, jolly time, as the pot of hot cof- 
fee was passed around. 

Nathan sat a little apart from the crowd with his 
back against a tree. He gazed upon the scene 
around him with the expression of being far from it. 
It had never seemed to him that he was really one of 
them. 

Silas threw himself upon the ground beside Nathan. 
“What are they talking about now, Nathan?” he 
asked, nodding to a group of excited soldiers. 

“ They say an attack is to be made to-night. Our 
regiment is to be among the first to charge.” He 
turned a face ashy in its pallor toward Silas. There 
was a weak smile trembling at the corners of his 
mouth. 

Silas lay flat upon the ground with his face turned 
up to the sky. The heavens had changed from the 
dull glow of sunset to a deep, unfathomable blue. 
The stars came out like fireflies, the leaves rustled, 
and the camp fires lighted up the trees with a rosy 
glow, throwing into strong relief the coarsened faces 
that clustered around them. 

Silas smiled up into the heavens. She, no doubt, 
was watching those same stars, he thought. Then 
179 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

another idea made him sit bolt upright. What if 
she were dead ! 

“ What time are we ordered out? 99 he asked Na- 
than suddenly. 

“ At twelve to-night. We are to be ready then for 
an early attack.” 

Silas rose and walked up to the group of soldiers. 
He questioned them all, receiving the same undecided 
answers. 

“Why don’t they tell us?” he said disgustedly, 
walking away, and going back to Nathan. “We 
do it all anyhow, not the officers ! ” 

The two sat side by side, silent, a long time. 
“ Brother,” Nathan broke the long quiet, “ it will 
be our first battle. How do you think we’ll stand it ? ” 

Silas did not answer immediately. 

“ Nathan, let’s wait until to-morrow. The experi- 
ence will be back of us then.” He smiled hopefully. 
“ Watch me fight to-morrow, Nathan,” he said, the 
thought illuminating his face. “ I have an object 
before me now. God! I can hardly wait.” 

Nathan listened in silence, the wan smile settling 
upon his white face. An overpowering dread had 
come to him, freezing the blood in his veins. 

180 


Ill 


THE camp fires were shining eyes in the black night. 
Across the gorge, where the besieged army watched 
and waited, a dim glow arose above the breast-works. 
The still night was filled with the sound of chopping 
axes, falling trees, and the creaking sound of the 
heavy wagons hauling the protecting logs to the edge 
of the ridge, and far off over the distant town came 
the intermittent flashing and the rumbling sound of 
the bombardment. 

In and out of the groups that clustered around 
the fires men were walking rapidly, giving careful, 
distinct instructions to the commanders of the dif- 
ferent companies. 

The quiet of preparation had fallen over the spirit 
of the men. It was a deliberate getting ready for 
death. Each one kept fear within his breast. It 
was only pride that made them appear brave. 

One man in a group stretched his legs out on the 
dry ground, yawning. 

“ I wish it was time for us to get at ’em,” he said. 

181 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


64 That’s a lie,” another had answered. “ The 
whole lot of us are scared to death, and so are you,” 
and first the speaker had stolen silently away into the 
darkness. 

In the intenseness of the waiting, the hours seemed 
to fly. It was not the waiting that they dreaded, it 
was the end of the waiting which they wished would 
never come. 

Finally the hour of movement came. They 
formed into columns and marched out of the camp to 
the open ground along the ridge of the hills. They 
moved on steadily, lanterns flashing before them, 
lighting the way. Then came a halt and the ranks 
broke. 

Instructions came to them to go down the hill 
and line up in the bed of the creek. In the dim 
night light they crept over the embankment and 
went carefully down the hillside, disappearing into 
the black depths of the ravine. On and on came the 
black objects, the supply seeming inexhaustible, as 
company after company sank into the gorge ; and not 
until the silver glow of morning began to light up 
the scene did the army stop coming. 

The plan of the attack was to rush up the hill 
182 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


between two points which jutted out and made a 
recess in which the Confederates had built no pro- 
tection. Their ground was so admirably suited for 
defence that they had concentrated on the prominent 
points of the ridge, thinking that they were suffi- 
ciently well situated to protect both themselves and 
the undefended places. In this way, if an attack 
were made, they could stand in the protected positions 
and pour a steady fire into the enemy from both 
sides. 

With the sun came a deadly fire from the heights 
the army had just left. The artillery had begun the 
battle. The crash of cannon filled the air. A Par- 
rott shell whistled above the heads of the soldiers 
crouching at the bottom of the gorge. It seemed 
as if the deserted camp had risen up and cursed the 
army that had left it, blaspheming it with the help of 
fiery demons. 

The ravine took up the sound and threw it back 
with added reverberations. The hills went on repeat- 
ing it farther and farther away, like giant sentinels 
calling the hours in succession. 

Silas and Nathan lay side by side, behind the pro- 
tecting bank of the creek. Before them loomed up 
183 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


black the almost impregnable fortifications of the 
enemy. They did not speak to each other. Once 
every little while Silas would put out his hand and 
touch Nathan’s arm as if to reassure him. Nathan 
did not respond to the touch; he lay perfectly still. 
When the first light of the morning came, his eyes 
roved about the ground and became glued upon a 
group of heavy logs that spanned the creek directly 
at his side. The two men next to him were shielded 
by the projection. It looked to be a bridge strong 
enough to hold any army that might pass over it. 

When the deepening roar of the battery came, he 
edged a little closer to the projection. Silas did not 
see the movement, so intent was he upon the work in 
hand, and when the order came to charge he rose out 
of the ditch and hurried forward with the crowd, 
thinking that Nathan was beside him. Silas rushed 
across the open ground until the jutting heights of 
the enemy formed a protection from their fire which 
was already very heavy. With the outburst of the 
artillery the enemy was awakened in great surprise. 
They had not thought that an attack would be made 
at such a hazardous place and lost time in forming 
a plan of action. In the meantime the attacking 
184 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


force had gained the protection of the projecting 
height. 

Then down upon the Federal line poured a rain of 
fire, heavy, pelting, murderous. Some of the men 
threw their hands above their heads in terror, but 
they had to stand and take it. “ It’s a death trap. 
We’re caught. What fool planned this?” one man 
yelled above the din. His face was distorted with 
fear and rage. A flow of curses fell from his lips. 

Silas stood waiting impatiently. Something must 
be done. Something would be done he felt sure. 
They could not have planned such a foolish attack 
as this. The fierce, death-dealing rain fell about on 
all sides as he stood there waiting for the assistance 
he knew would come. Shading his eyes with his 
hands he looked about for Nathan. Crowded around 
him, hovering close to the ground, trying to burrow 
their way into the earth, were the terrified soldiers. 
Pride had left them now. They were their true 
selves in the full power of their uncontrollable terror. 
Death was everywhere. Their friends were dropping 
beside them. They had to stumble over the dead 
bodies to move about at all. They were entirely 
hemmed in, for the open ground that stretched back 
185 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


to their line was even more death-giving than where 
they now stood. The height of the enemy’s line 
above them took away certainty of aim, and instead 
of bullets, exploding shells, heavy pieces of timber, 
huge logs were rolled down upon them. Harmless- 
looking black objects were hurled down into their 
midst, lying unnoticed until the lighted fuse had 
burned its way into the powder chamber. Then the 
awful, crashing noise would come, and men fell in 
heaps. 

Years seemed to have passed before the sound of a 
bugle came to their deafened ears and an answer 
replied from their own heights. At this signal the 
plan of attack began to work. Blue-coated men 
came over the Union parapet like a multitude of ants 
until the sloping hill turned from green into a dark, 
moving mass of blue. The whole face of the earth 
seemed made of them. 

The clever ruse succeeded. The attention of the 
Confederates was diverted from the foes close at 
hand to the great multitude coming toward them 
from the open ground. So great a force must not 
be allowed to advance, and their fire was turned 
aside. 


186 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Silas grasped the situation. He saw that the 
commander’s plan was being achieved. With the ces- 
sation of the pouring rain of fire he rushed about 
him looking for Nathan. He called him until he 
was hoarse with shouting. He even turned over some 
of the bodies of fallen men to see if Nathan were 
among them when the order came to charge up the 
hill, into the line. 

The rush swept him on, and he forgot everything 
in the fierce desire for ceaseless action that controlled 
him. The blood beating in his head sounded like 
thunder. His pores seemed to be opening and let- 
ting out the boiling fluid. 

Every now and then his sight would clear and he 
could see a little of what was taking place. Once, 
as he stopped to reload his gun a man fell beneath 
him and held him by the leg. He pulled away and 
tried to kick himself loose, but the man’s grip was 
firm. It was the grip of death. In his awakened 
barbarism, Silas pounded the man’s terrified face with 
his gun butt until the grasp relaxed. Everyone 
about him was in a frenzy, they knew not what they 
did, only that a force back of them was pushing 
them on into a blazing furnace. 

187 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ Where is that damned cat I hear whining? ” a 
man called out petulantly. 

“ It’s the minie balls whizzing, you fool,” an old 
soldier answered. 

Hoarse cries were on all sides, some talking con- 
tinually to themselves, other mumbling in a silly, 
meaningless way. Steadily on they went, up to the 
enemy’s stronghold. 

Suddenly a panic came in the Confederate line, 
The attacking army was within a foot of them now. 
One more concentrated, forward move, and they 
would be on the breast-work. The officers were back 
of them, pushing them forward, until the line was 
complete. 

“ Now,” they yelled, in unison. 

The two opposing lines of men were face to face, 
with death holding wide-open arms behind each of 
them. There was a moment’s pause, the silence of a 
crisis. Then the dark blue line mingled with the 
grey. 

Silas saw several men fall on the embankment 
directly in front of him leaving an unguarded space 
on the parapet. He sprang quickly upon it, closely 
following the flag-bearer, who fell headlong to the 
188 



SILAS PLANTING THE FLAG 






THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


ground. A yell came from the besieged, 46 Their 
flag is down,” they cried, joy in their voices. 

Silas jerked the pole from the dead boy’s hands 
and rammed it in the ground on the breast-works. 
The wind unfurled the flag, and it floated calmly out 
on the gentle breeze over the riot beneath. A thou- 
sand throats took up the cry of victory, and the 
ravine rang with the glorious sound. Above the 
noise of the battle a band was heard playing a 
popular air. 

Silas turned to the crowd back of him. They were 
falling like ten pins. 

“Follow the colours, boys,” he shouted to them, 
and climbed upon the embankment to protect the flag. 

A face was continually before him on the other side 
of that death wall. It seemed to say 44 Come, Come,” 
and encouragement burned in the dark eyes. 44 Yes, 
I will; I’m coming,” his brain reiterated, every other 
thought shut out. 44 Nothing shall keep me back ; 
not even death.” 

As he sprang upon the embankment, a man stood 
before him pointing a bayonet at his breast. Silas 
seized the gun, and threw both arms around the man, 
protecting himself from the fire that was directed 
189 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


toward him. They writhed and struggled in fierce 
combat just as thousands of others were doing around 
them. It seemed forever to Silas before the other 
men rallied to his aid and that part of the parapet 
was taken. 


190 


IV 


SILAS crouched down a moment in the shade of the 
parapet. His throat seemed closed up. He leaned 
his head on his hands and coughed out the blood that 
had risen in his mouth. Could he have been shot? 
His hair felt sticky and grimy, and his whole head 
was bruised and sore. His clothes were riddled in 
places with bullet holes, and blood trickled from his 
hands where he had grabbed the man’s bayonet, but 
he was not wounded. A wonder came to him amid 
the roar and thunder of the battle at the marvellous 
Power that had kept him untouched when so many 
about him had fallen. His bent his head again, and 
prayed. 

The fierce Rebel yell brought him back to his sur- 
roundings with a shock. His companions, along the 
embankment were not holding their position. They 
began to run down the hill. He rose, climbed to the 
top of the embankment and looked over. The whole 
top of the ridge was covered with men in grey. Rein- 
forcements had come to them in the moment of need 
191 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


and all along the line of earthworks they were beat- 
ing back the men in blue. Their horrible, ear-split- 
ting yell was heard everywhere. The echo of it 
sounded deep into the ravine, making the retreating 
army look up startled, as if an attack had been begun 
on the other side. 

Silas rushed after the hurrying men. “ Come 
back, you fools!” he yelled. “We can hold the 
place. Come back, you cowards ! Damn you, beasts, 
sneaking liars ! ” All the vile epithets that he had 
ever heard he threw after them. They did not heed 
him but kept on retreating down the hill. He fol- 
lowed them furiously, tears of impotent rage stream- 
ing down his face. 

When he caught up with them, he looked so strange 
that they were afraid of him. He was like some wild 
devil turned loose in an arena of persecuted souls. 

As they reached the bottom of the ravine, the whole 
world seemed to have turned upon them a fierce hail 
of red fire, which came from the hill back of them 
through steady clouds of red smoke. The noise was 
terrific and was increased by the echoes beating 
against the sides of the ravine. The men were losing 
their hearing, their tongues had ceased to move, and 
192 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


they staggered along blindly towards the creek, many 
falling headlong into it in their haste, to be crushed 
to death by those who followed. 

Suddenly Silas stood still. Curses fell from his 
lips as he realised that Nathan was not with him. 
He turned and tried to go back, but he was like a fly 
before the wind in the wild flight. He was shoved 
across the bridge of logs, along the level ground and 
up the sloping side of the hill, his eyes closed, his 
legs carrying him automatically along. The life 
had gone out of him now. He cared for nothing. 
He had been near to her but had failed at the last 
moment. Getting back to camp became to him a 
black horror. 

He fell against the embankment at the top of the 
ridge and opened his eyes. There was something 
familiar about the man climbing in front of him. 

“Nathan — Nathan — Nathan!” he cried, aloud. 

The young fellow turned at the call. His face 
had a look of settled horror. His hair was covered 
with a heavy coating of mud, his clothes were satu- 
rated and dripping with water and blood. His eyes 
were sunken and had lost their clear, blue colour. 
They looked faded. 


193 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


When Silas called him he did not reply, only shak- 
ing his head when asked if he were wounded. 

They walked on together silently to their tent. In 
their ears the noise of the battle was a dull roar now ; 
the sharpness and stress had gone out of it. 


194 


V 


THE two men stumbled along in a fatigued, aimless 
way. The embankment back of them was still cov- 
ered with the retreating multitude. 

As they went Silas told Nathan of the cowardice 
of the men which had lost the day for them when it 
was so nearly won. He spoke in the coarse language 
of the camp, showing the influence of his association 
with the rough soldiers in his uncontrollable, raging 
disappointment. 

Nathan listened quietly, the same dull look in his 
face. He seemed oblivious both of the scene about 
him and of what Silas was saying. 

Gradually Silas wore himself out with his pas- 
sionate tirade, and became silent and preoccupied. 

As he tried to recall the scenes of movement and 
excitement in the battle he found that they had gone 
from him as quickly as they had come. One incident 
only stood out clearly in his mind. 

During one of the pauses in the charge up the hill, 
he had noticed a delicate little pink primrose in his 
195 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


path. He had stooped and pulled it, slipping it into 
the button hole of his shirt. It was still there, its 
fragrant beauty gone. Silas’ laugh rang out 
harshly. 

“ To think that I should do a thing like that at 
such a moment.” 

Nathan shifted his position and turned his face 
away. 

The artillery was still roaring across the ravine, 
the thundering sound filling the air. An officer 
walked by. Silas rose, saluted and asked him the 
time of day. 

“ Eight o’clock,” was the curt reply. 

“ Is that all ? ” Silas sat down again in wonder- 
ment. Could it be possible that the battle had lasted 
such a short time? He thought it had been an eter- 
nity. His eyes closed with an overpowering fatigue, 
his head fell upon his breast, and he sank into a long, 
deep sleep. 

The day wore on, the heat increasing each moment. 
The high ridge of the camp cleared of the large 
trees lay fully exposed to the glaring heat. Down 
in the ravine the ground lay spotted with dark 
objects, their mutilated, still faces turned up to the 
196 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


glistening sun. The terrible roar of the morning 
had gradually ceased, and a dead silence lay like a 
pall over all nature. One day’s work had been 
done. 

Nathan sat by Silas in the long, steady quiet. He 
had not opened his lips once. War had written its 
story upon his face. 

The afternoon sun sending a ray into Silas’ face 
awakened him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes with 
his grimy fingers. The look of impatience came 
back into his face and he rose and walked about. 
His desire had only been fed by the discouragement, 
the loss of the day. He stopped his nervous striding, 
and stood looking down at Nathan. 

“ I must get into the town, Nathan,” he said 
decidedly. “ I can’t stand the uncertainty of the 
thing. When I reached the enemy’s ground, yester- 
day, it was the first relief that I have had since she 
left me. I seemed to be nearer her then, and I imag- 
ined I heard her calling to me. My God, to think 
that I was so near and lost it all.” 

The look of disappointment and rage that made 
the men on the battle-field fly from him came into his 
eyes again. 


197 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“Tell me what to do, Nathan. How can I get 
to her? ” 

The younger fellow shrugged his shoulders indif- 
ferently. The look in his eyes, as he raised them to 
Silas, was like some dumb, hunted animal. 

“What is the matter with you, boy?” Silas 
exclaimed, looking at him keenly. “ Are you 
wounded? You don’t look like yourself?” 

In the return to his normal state, Silas became 
aware of the change that had taken place in Nathan. 
It came to him with a shock — that his own up- 
turned nature had made him lose sight of his com- 
panion. 

He threw himself down by Nathan, and put his 
arm gently around him, his love for the boy speaking 
in his soft touch. 

The drawn lines about Nathan’s face relaxed a 
little. It was the first sign of sympathy he had had 
from Silas since the battle. 

“What is it, Nathan? You have not spoken once, 
to-day.” 

The young fellow shook like a leaf at the touch 
of kindness. It was what he had been craving with- 
out knowing it. He struggled vainly to control 
198 


THE 


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O F 


HOPE 


himself, and fell forward upon Silas’ breast, his body 
shaken with gasping sobs. 

“ Silas, Silas,” he cried as if asking for help. 

Silas held him tightly in his arms till the sobs 
had ceased, looking down at him with concern. 

“What is it, Nathan?” he asked gently. “What 
has shaken you up so?” 

Nathan did not raise his head, but his body 
trembled as he spoke. “It was hell, Silas. It was 
hell,” he repeated over and over again. 

The stronger man held him tighter. 

“ Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “ it was, but it’s over 
now.” 

There was a tone of encouragement in his voice 
which gave strength to his brother. 

After a while Nathan raised his head and gazed 
about him. He looked more natural now, the boyish- 
ness had gone forever from his face, but the sweet 
expression was coming again into his eyes. By 
degrees the details about him began to take familiar 
shape. The blurred red and black of his vision 
melted into the green of the trees about him. He 
noticed the trees as they turned in the breeze, and 
saw again the ground with its long, trodden grass. 
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HOPE 


The touch of his fingers on the mossy tree brought a 
cool, refreshing sensation to his skin, and he began 
to realise that the wet, blood-stained clothing felt 
uncomfortable and hot. He was coming back to 
himself out of the horror which had paralysed his 
brain, as if he were awakening from a nightmare, 
weak with the cold sweat of terror. 

Silas sat quietly thinking as Nathan regained con- 
trol of himself, his eyes shining with the thoughts 
which passed through his mind. 

“Ah, I have it.” He sprang to his feet in his 
excitement. “ I can go into the city as a spy.” 

Nathan looked at him in amazement. 

“A spy,” he said, with an accent of repulsion. 
“Do you love that girl enough for that?” 

“ Yes,” said Silas slowly. “ I must know if she is 
safe or I shall go mad.” 

He strode up and down the ground excitedly. 

“How can you do it?” Nathan asked. 

“ I shall go to the general and volunteer as a spy. 
They have got to know the condition of the town and 
how much ammunition they have to withstand a 
siege. I understand that is their plan. I heard an 
officer say this morning that information was abso- 
200 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

lutely necessary for their success, and I will offer to 
find out what they want to know.” 

Nathan listened intently, carried away by the 
enthusiasm of Silas. 

“ If I go at once, to-night, I shall stand a better 
chance of getting through safely. I must see her.” 
Silas spoke emphatically. 

Nathan stood up and grasped his arm. “Let 
me go with you,” he said, his face was lighted with 
a new hope. 

“You! What for?” 

Nathan’s eyes sparkled. “For the danger,” he 
answered. 

Silas laughed. “For the danger, Nathan? You 
have wondered at me for taking all this risk for a girl 
I scarcely knew and now you do it just for the 
danger. What do you mean ? ” 

Nathan looked steadily before him, as he answered, 
“I don’t want to be separated from you again as I 
was yesterday, Silas. I want to go side by side with 
you to the front, and to be in the midst of danger, 
where the bullets are falling thickest.” 

He stopped a moment, the enthusiasm of a fanatic 
burning in his glance. 


201 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“ Get orders for me to go when you do, Silas. I 
mean to go with you.” 

Silas saw his determination, and reluctantly con- 
sented. He felt the responsibility of Nathan’s 
safety and knew he should never forgive himself if 
harm came to him. Then he left him quickly, and 
walked toward the officers’ tent. 


202 


VI 


THE singing of the negroes as they worked in the 
intrenchments came steadily up with the other camp 
noises, as the day wore itself away into the night. 

The fortifications began to assume large propor- 
tions and the fire of the enemy fell harmlessly against 
the barricade. Large cannons were dragged about, 
and placed in the most prominent positions. Queer- 
shaped mortar-guns had been constructed out of 
tough timber and wrapped with chains. They were 
tested when placed and were found to do admirable 
work. 

Silas and Nathan had begun their preparations in 
the tent, having obtained permission from the colonel 
of their regiment, who had noticed Silas’ bravery in 
the morning. 

They put on civilian clothes after having washed 
the signs of the battle from their grimy bodies. The 
water and the comfort of fresh garments brought 
new life to them. 

Silas wore a dark-grey suit, with a large felt hat 
203 


THE 


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O F 


HOPE 


thrown carelessly on his head. His bluish-black hair, 
pushed back from his forehead, threw into relief his 
strongly moulded features. 

There was a power, an undefined force in his bear- 
ing, which made the men look at him admiringly. His 
manner to them had always been simple and cour- 
teous, and although he had mingled little with them, 
they had not misconstrued it, for they had felt the 
difference between them. They knew he did not be- 
long with them in any way and unconsciously recog- 
nised his superiority. 

As the two brothers turned from the camp, Silas 
led the way, walking close to the embankment. They 
passed sentinels every few steps, and giving the 
w T atchword softly they went on into the darkness. 

Just as their sight was beginning to accustom 
itself to the dim starlight, they came out on a high 
knoll, which commanded a view of the whole surround- 
ing country. 

In front of them lay a wide sheet of water, for here 
the ends of both ridges sloped off abruptly into the 
river. Beneath them was the gorge in which they 
had fought that morning. The stream that had pro- 
tected them here formed itself into a series of water- 
204 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


falls, and went tumbling down to join the great river. 
Across the gorge against the dark sky loomed the 
black outlines of a fort, boldly outlined. 

Silas stood and looked about him. He could see a 
flag floating on the top of the fort as if suspended 
in the sky. 

“ Gad — what a stronghold ! ” he said. “ I don’t 
wonder they call it the Gibraltar of the South.” 

Nathan pulled his belt tighter and felt for his 
pistol. “ Come on, Silas,” he said impatiently. “ We 
must not waste time. It is close on to midnight, 
now.” 

They climbed across the embankment and began to 
descend the slope. 

An hour had passed before they reached the bot- 
tom, and taking off their shoes they walked carefully 
across the stream. They could not see in the dark- 
ness that it was running red. When they had 
passed over and walked a little distance, they were 
confronted by a sheer precipice. Looking up they 
saw above them, almost on a straight line, the flag 
of the enemy’s stronghold fluttering in the strong 
breeze. 

Since they had left the protection of their own 
205 


THE 


HEART 


OF HOPE 


ground Nathan had led the way, never stopping, and 
remonstrating with Silas for his unnecessary watch- 
fulness. He showed no signs of realising the great 
danger surrounding them, and made the start up the 
steep hill, Silas following close behind. They could 
not go rapidly, as their feet slipped from under them 
on the dry grass, and it seemed to them that they 
lost two steps for each one gained. 

At last they gained the protection of a clump of 
trees halfway up, and sat down for a few moments 
to rest. 

Nathan pulled out a canteen and poured the coffee 
into his mouth. His coat was torn into shreds and 
he pulled it off. His light shirt made a white spot 
in the darkness. 

“ That won’t do, Nathan,” remonstrated Silas. 
“ They will see you.” 

“ I can’t stand the heavy thing. It suffocates me. 
I’ll keep close to the ground in the shadows.” 

They started off again, more slowly this time, for 
the top of the hill was not far off now. The distant 
call of a sentinel made them both stop short and 
listen. They were even nearer than they had thought. 
Each sunken spot on the hillside was a protection. 

206 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


They jumped from one shadow to another, until they 
lay down safely in the darkness under the embank- 
ment. They lay there, their pulses thumping in the 
stillness until they felt that someone must hear them. 

The dead silence was broken by the heavy tread of 
an approaching sentinel. He passed directly above 
them and walked on along the embankment. Nathan 
made a start forward. Silas jerked him back. 

“ Go slow, man. You must be careful. There is 
another one coming.” 

Drawing back they lay flat against the ground 
again. The footsteps passed above them and went 
on. Silas lifted his head and listened. Everything 
was perfectly still now. A shell had just burst in 
the sky, and the bright flash had left the night even 
blacker for the moment of light. He touched Na- 
than on the arm and they both rose softly and crept 
over the mass of bags and logs. 

A deep trench lay on the other side, and they slid 
down into it and waited. They heard the sentinel 
in the distance coming toward them, and presently 
he passed within a foot of them. Silas stopped 
breathing ; he could have touched the man. 

A clearing lay between the ditch and a clump of 
207 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


dark bushes. They would have to cross this before 
they could go on. 

The sentinels were now out of hearing, so they both 
stood up and calculated the distance. One dash 
would make it. Crawling across the ground would 
take too long. They rose up side by side, and made 
the spring together. 

As they reached the open space, a sharp report 
rang out back of them. It was too late to turn back, 
and in a moment they were lying flat in the bushes. 
The sentinels came running up and moved steadily 
toward the dark bush that shielded the two men. 

Silas drew his pistol from his belt and cocked it. 
The desperate moment had come. Just as he raised 
the pistol and aimed at the first man, the howl of a 
dog came out of the darkness a few yards away. The 
approaching sentinel laughed and turned away. 

“ Well,” he said to his companion, still laughing, 
“ that is a good joke on me. Wasting my ammuni- 
tion on a dog.” 

They turned to .the parapet, joking over the mat- 
ter as they again took up their march. 

The dark bush began to move slightly, as Silas 
and Nathan made their way softly toward the shad- 
208 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


ows of the trees. The worst was over now, they 
thought, as they moved steadily on, within the Con- 
federate lines. 

They left the embankment in their rear and walked 
straight before them until the ridge sloped off into a 
gorge, which ran parallel with the long hill that shut 
out the view of the river. As they descended into 
the protecting darkness of this gully the sound of 
the shells became more and more distinct, as if the 
explosions were almost over their heads. The ground 
was becoming almost impassable, and the dense under- 
growth, twisted vines and weeds, so completely 
blocked the way that they were compelled to make 
many detours, frequently retracing their steps. 

Nathan, who up to this time had been leading the 
way, lagged behind a little, and let Silas do the ex- 
ploring. When they came suddenly to a deeply 
washed gully, Silas caught hold of Nathan’s arm to 
steady himself. His hand closed upon a warm, wet 
shirt sleeve, which seemed to be sticking to the arm. 

Nathan gave a gasp of pain, and Silas grasped his 
hand, running his own up the limp, lifeless arm. 
“ What is this on your sleeve, Nathan? ” he said. “ It 
feels like blood.” 


209 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ It is,” Nathan answered quietly. “ They shot 
me up there in the bushes. I didn’t think they had 
hurt me much, but I guess I’ll have to stop.” He 
sank down on the ground, amid the wild growth. 

Silas stood beside him in dismay. 

“ What can we do now ? ” he kept repeating over 
and over to himself. Just as he had thought the 
danger passed a worse calamity had fallen upon them. 

All sorts of horrible memories came surging into 
his mind, the tense suffering of the wounded soldiers 
came back to him, and the remembrance that erysipe- 
las had developed in so many wounds that had not 
been cared for at once. 

Nathan made an effort to rise, but fell back again. 

“ Better go on without me, Silas. I’ll find you 
somewhere in the town to-morrow morning.” Silas 
did not answer. He ran over to some higher ground 
and looked about him. 

The converging sides of the hills closed them in, 
the gully leading out toward the town. On the still 
night floated the sound of the town clock striking 
two. The town could not be far off ; and assistance 
and help must be within a short distance of them. 
But how could he explain the situation? A wild feel- 
210 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


ing of bitterness flashed into his mind — bitterness 
against Nathan. He had not been asked to come, 
and the whole plan had failed on account of him. 
The feeling disappeared as quickly as it had come, 
and he bowed his head in sudden shame. If the love 
for this girl could develop such traits in him he 
would cast her out of his thoughts forever. He 
strained his eyes into the darkness to find some house, 
or place, where he could take Nathan. 

A flash from one of the mortars showed him a 
large white house near the top of the hill. In a mo- 
ment the light went out before he had glanced at the 
intervening ground. 

He ran back to Nathan and urged him to get up. 
“ I’ve found a place, Nathan. There’s a big house 
over on that hill. We will go to it and ask for help.” 

Nathan staggered to his feet, the blood trickling 
rapidly down his arm. 

“ I don’t think I can walk, Silas. Steady me with 
this arm. Go slow, man.” 

They walked along, halting every few minutes to 
rest. Another flash from the exploding shells showed 
them the white house again. They were in a direct 
line with it, down the hill. 


211 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

Nathan leaned more heavily against Silas and 
groaned. 

“ Leave me, Silas,” he said. “ It is torture to 
walk. I can’t stand it.” He pulled away and fell 
helplessly to the ground. 

Silas stooped down beside him and started to pick 
him up in his arms. “ For God’s sake, Silas, leave 
me quiet. I can’t stand the moving.” 

“ I see a protected-looking place ahead of us on 
the hillside,” he urged, lifting Nathan up and carry- 
ing him quickly forward. A few steps more, and he 
stopped at a dug-out, level place, forming a small 
terrace on the side of the hill. Back of it opened the 
mouth of a large cave. The place showed signs of 
being used. Several chairs were placed near the open- 
ing, and a wire stand containing growing plants in 
pots stood on the terrace. 

Silas looked carefully about and listened. Placing 
Nathan gently on the ground, he made a search 
within the cave and about the surrounding ground. 
No one was to be seen, and he felt that they were safe 
for the night at least. 

When he returned to Nathan he found him groan- 
ing. With his knife Silas cut away the ragged sleeve 
212 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


from the wounded arm. The flesh was badly torn, 
but when the pieces of the sleeve were removed, the 
blood flowed more freely, opening the wound. 

Silas took off his own shirt, and tore it into long 
bandages, as he had learned to do in camp. All he 
needed now was water to wash away the blood, and 
on the little stand of flowers he found an old sprink- 
ler half filled with it. He bathed the wound clean, 
and tied it up firmly with the bandages. 

Nathan settled himself comfortably on the ground, 
and soon fell asleep. Silas sat beside him keeping 
watch. He was near Agatha now, but he was not 
happy. Through his love for her calamity had 
come to Nathan. Love was not all joy then, but a 
thing of manifold sides. 


213 









BOOK FIVE 


Suspense 




I 


WHEN Agatha left Silas and crossed the open 
ground toward the Confederate fortifications, the 
idea came to her to make some continued sound, so 
that the pickets should not be taken entirely by sur- 
prise. As she began to climb the hill she took off 
the black cloak, leaving her white gown clearly dis- 
tinct in the darkness, and began to sing quietly, rais- 
ing her voice as she neared the top and not stopping 
until she stood upon the embankment. 

A man jumped from the shadows on the other side 
and recklessly fired upon her without taking aim. 

A dazed sensation passed over Agatha when she 
heard the report; and she stood still, wondering if 
she were shot. As the sentinel called to her to halt, 
she asked him to help her across the intrenchment. 

“ Who are you ? What do you want ? Where do 
you come from? ” The sentinel’s questions came in 
quick succession, and he kept the gun pointed at her. 

66 1 am Agatha Windom, a citizen of this town ; I 
217 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


have made my escape through the Union lines. Ask 
Capt. Eldridge. He passed me through here three 
days ago when I went out to my relatives.” 

She advanced a little as she spoke. 

“ Capt. Eldridge is not here now. He was re- 
moved two days ago. I cannot let you advance.” 

Agatha sat down upon the ground in despair. 

“ Well, find someone who was here then. I must 
get through. Someone will surely know me.” 

The man came up close and looked at her keenly. 

“ You will have to wait here until the next sentry 
comes. I cannot leave you here alone.” He spoke 
with decision and was evidently suspicious. 

Several minutes passed, in silence. Then Agatha 
rose hurriedly. 

“ You must take me to your commander at once,” 
she said. “ I cannot remain here any longer. I have 
come five miles and I am worn out.” 

The man looked about him helplessly; then, rais- 
ing his hands to his lips, he gave a low whistle. In a 
second, three men came running out of the shadow, 
and stood about him. One of them advanced toward 
Agatha and looked at her curiously. A sword at 
his side glistened in the starlight. 

218 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


“ This woman,” explained the sentry, “ came across 
the embankment a few minutes ago, and says she is 
from one of the Union camps. She came through 
here three days ago, she says, going out of town to 
visit her relatives, and now wants to get back home. 
Shall I let her pass ? ” 

The man who had advanced toward Agatha 
uttered a startled exclamation as he came nearer to 
her. 

“ Good God ! Agatha, is it you? ” 

Robert Sentrill’s voice sounded sharp on the still 
night. Agatha stood up suddenly and swayed 
toward him. 

“ Oh, Robert.” Her voice came indistinct and 
broken. “ Take me home. Take me home.” 

She broke into sobs as he caught her in his arms. 
The sentry went quickly away on his line of march, 
and the other men disappeared into the shadows 
again. 

In a few moments, when Agatha had regained her 
composure, Robert led her to the camp fire and or- 
dered some coffee brought to her. She took a sip of 
the strong drink and sat down on a box before the 
encouraging blaze. 


219 


THE 


HEART 


OF HOPE 


Robert sat down beside her, taking her hand be- 
tween his and caressing it gently. “ Tell me all 
about it, Agatha,” he said, raising her hand to his 
lips. “ Your father has been almost mad since the 
town was surrounded. There seemed to be no way 
of finding out anything about you. I went to your 
home the first chance after we got into the town and 
found everyone terribly worried about you. Never 
mind, dear, you are back — you are safe.” 

He drew closer and put his arm about her, but 
she scarcely seemed to feel his caress. Another face 
was there across the fire, with a hauntingly familiar 
look in the strong features. Then she seemed to see 
the weaker face, the one with the clear blue eyes. The 
fire blazed up redly and brought before her the dead 
man, the one who had said, “ Don’t let it be red.” 
She sprang up with a cry of terror and covered her 
face with her hands. 

“ Take me home, Robert. I am ill. I can’t talk.” 

She steadied herself against him in her agitation. 

“ The shells are not so thick in the early morning, 
Agatha,” said Robert soothingly. “ Don’t you think 
we had better wait until then? ” 

“ Never mind the danger, Robert. It is just to 
220 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

get back. My father ! I can’t wait to see him. Oh, 
I wish he were here.” 

Robert made her sit down by the roadside, and 
went in search of something in which to drive her 
home. He soon returned with the camp wagon, a 
rough, noisy vehicle drawn by a mule that seemed long 
ago to have completed his life’s work. Every bone 
in his emaciated body was on the point of sticking 
through his skin. 

Robert lifted Agatha into the wagon, and in a 
moment they were jolting off in the direction of the 
town. The rising sun lighted the dismal stretch of 
dusty road in front of them, as the mule pulled slowly 
along over the uneven places, throwing clouds of dust 
into their faces, while the wagon creaked incessantly. 

The familiar road looked strangely new to Agatha 
since she had passed over it some days before. Long 
lines of tents were on either side, stretching far out 
toward the line of intrenchments. 

As they drove into the streets of the town things 
took on a more lively aspect. Men in grey uniforms 
were coming out of nearly every house they passed, 
or standing upon the corners, their lean, careworn 
faces looking ghostly in the searching morning light. 

221 


THE 


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O F 


HOPE 


Gloom was everywhere, penetrating even the atmos- 
phere, and the church bell ringing out for morning 
prayer appeared to toll. 

Agatha’s happiness at returning home became 
less keen as she looked about the streets. An old 
house which held many pleasant memories for her 
stood a wreck upon its green terraces. A shell had 
exploded through the centre and laid the sides wide 
open. Almost all the available ground had been dug 
into caves for the women and children. Their wan 
faces looked out from the dark openings into the 
bright morning light and added to the sepulchral 
effect. 

As they passed a large white frame house, with a 
flag flying from it, Robert told Agatha that the fam- 
ily had been ordered out of the house three days ago 
after the retreat of the soldiers, and it had been used 
as a hospital ever since. 

Agatha shut her eyes as she passed the place. She 
knew too well what it meant. 

They passed the old grey Court House, standing 
stately among its green trees. That at least had 
not been destroyed. 

She thought of the conversation between Robert 
222 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


and herself on the day of his departure. She had 
thought herself changed then, but how much greater 
had been the change since that time. She looked 
closely at Robert for the first time, as he sat beside 
her, guiding the mule. There were no signs of war 
upon him. His uniform was fresh and spotless-look- 
ing; the gold lace upon it was displeasing to her. 
Her mind kept turning back to the blood-stained gar- 
ments she had grown used to ; in the light of which 
Robert seemed to her less like a soldier. “ But he is 
an officer,” she kept insisting to herself, “ and I do 
not suppose they see much rough service.” Her 
loyalty caused her to make excuses for the man she 
had loved. As they passed Robert’s home, standing 
back in its shady lawn, Agatha asked for Mrs. Sen- 
trill. It was the second time she had spoken on the 
long drive. 

“ She is very well, in fact was never better. I 
come in every evening to take supper with her. She 
has got over her fear of the shells. In fact every- 
one is getting used to them now.” 

They passed on down the hill, and rumbled across 
the bayou bridge. As the valley came into view, 
Agatha exclaimed, and stood up in the wagon. A 
223 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


transformation had taken place while she had been 
away. The whole bottom of the valley was filled with 
a city of tents. They were clustered closely along 
the banks of the bayou and scattered along on the 
side of the hills. She thought of the ceaseless pass- 
ing in the night which she had heard and seen at 
Elmwood. She wondered if all this multitude could 
have gone by in a single night. Everywhere soldiers 
walked about, busily engaged in their duties ; some 
washed kettles and cooking utensils in the stream; 
others were building fires and hanging great pieces 
of meat to roast above the flames ; while a steady 
stream of shells from the gunboats fell pitilessly upon 
the white tents. 

Robert drove rapidly across the low ground, in 
order to reach the protection of the dug-out road. 
In the distance the white columns of the old house 
stood out bright against the surrounding hills. 

The tears came into Agatha’s eyes as she saw her 
home before her, just as she had left it. 

She left Robert at the gate and walked eagerly 
up to the porch. Everything was very still in the 
sparkling morning light. It seemed so cool and full 
of peace. The garden welcomed her back with its 
224 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


masses of bright colour. A bed of pale pink poppies 
made her wish to throw herself among them and sleep 
away the awful memories. It was like coming into 
Heaven out of the horrors of the life behind her. 

As she pushed open the door and stood in the dark, 
cool hall the familiar odour of the place came to her. 
The clean, white walls and polished floors had never 
seemed so beautiful before. She walked slowly to- 
ward the library. She did not want to hurry, or to 
lose any of it ; it was all too sweet to her. 

The library door stood open. She stepped upon 
the threshold and looked in. 

Her father sat in his big, leather chair, looking 
out into the garden. His back was to Agatha, and 
he was so quiet that she thought he must be asleep. 
She tiptoed up behind him, putting her hand on the 
back of his chair, looking down at him. The expres- 
sion that came over his face as he turned and saw her 
repaid her for all she had suffered. He rose from his 
chair and put his arms around her without speaking. 

“ I have seen it all,” Agatha said softly, in an- 
swer to the mute question in his eyes. “ I have looked 
into the depths, father. It is “ Ruin, Desolation, 
Death.” 


225 


II 


WHEN Hester came into the house to set the dinner 
table she found them there. “Lordy, Miss, I shore 
am glad to see you,” she exclaimed. “ My, but you 
look bad ! ” The kind darkey led her upstairs to the 
large, high-ceiled bedroom, and undressing her 
gently, put her in bed between the cool linen sheets. 
Then she left her to herself, to drift into the deep 
sleep of mental exhaustion. 

Agatha slept all through the afternoon and night 
and into the morning of the next day. Her mind and 
body had insisted upon a needed relaxation, and the 
long dreamless sleep had come with its rejuvenating 
power. Through it all the face of a soldier had fol- 
lowed her, not in connection with scenes did she see 
him, but he seemed always to be there. Her father 
came and sat beside her at different times of the 
afternoon and night, and once he knelt at the bed- 
side and prayed. 

The next morning Hester rushed into the room, 
her face blanched with fear. 

226 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ Miss Agathy,” she cried, at the top of her voice, 
“ get up. They is fightin’ ober on de hill dah. An’ 
de bullets is jest a-flyin’ against de house. Git up, 
fur de Lawd’s sake, missis, and come down to de cave. 
We’s all gwine down dar.” 

Agatha roused herself, and got out of bed. She 
could hear sounds as of hail on the roof, now and 
then, as spent bullets fell against the house. A 
thundering roar was coming from the hill back of 
the house. As she looked out of the window, heavy 
clouds of smoke were drifting toward the town. The 
smell of powder filled the air to suffocation. 

“ It’s de Yankees, Miss Agathy,” Hester continued 
in her high-keyed voice. “ They’s j est drivin’ all de 
men from de ’trenchments. You kin see ’em runnin’ 
back ober de hill.” Agatha listened intently as she 
hurriedly threw on her clothes. 

This was the attack she had heard the man talk- 
ing about, in the camp, and she had forgotten to 
warn them of it. It was too late, now. She had lost 
the chance of saving many lives. 

“ Where is father?” Agatha asked, after a 
moment. 

“He’s downstairs in de liberry. 

227 


Please make him 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

come down to de cave, Miss Agathy. It’s shore dan- 
gerous up heah.” 

Agatha finished dressing and ran downstairs. Her 
father was pacing up and down the library floor, his 
short, quick stride showing his excitement. 

44 Is there much danger, father? ” she asked, when 
he had kissed her. 

44 Not unless they get through the line. It all 
depends upon the day’s battle. There is no telling 
what may happen if they get into the town now.” 
Dull misery spoke in the tones of his voice. 44 We have 
Butler’s Code, as an example.” 

Agatha shuddered and turned toward the window. 
They were on the side opposite from the battle now, 
and the roar still came to them distinctly. 

Hester led Agatha to the other side of the house, 
and pointed to a broken window-pane. 

44 Yer see how dangerous it is, doan yer?” 

Agatha looked out through the window to the 
black, distant smoke rising over the hills. The 
sounds seemed to be settling a little now. The in- 
tense, throbbing noise had stopped shaking the 
house. The battle was evidently subsiding. 

Hester again spoke of the cave, and Agatha looked 
228 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


down the sloping back yard to the level spot in front 
of the cave. As she stood there looking at it, Jere- 
miah put his black head out of the opening ; then he 
emerged and came running toward them. Agatha 
went out on the back porch to meet him. He stood 
still when he saw her and looked his amazement. He 
wanted to make her believe it was the first time he had 
seen her. She did not know that Hester had led him 
up to the bedroom when she was asleep and let him 
gaze with joy upon his mistress’ face. He threw his 
arms around her feet and tears of joy ran down his 
black face. 

“It shore is you, Miss Agathy,” he said, looking 
up at her. “I’se jest got ter pinch myself to make 
me believe it.” 

Mr. Windom went out on the porch, and the four 
people stood looking upon the scene before them. 
They had stood by each other through the troubles 
of many years, and now war had bound them still 
more closely together ; they were like one family — the 
man and his daughter and the two faithful darkies. 

“We have evidently beaten them back, father,” 
Agatha said as the smoke and noise died down. 
“ The danger of the day is past.” 

229 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

She looked down the valley, at the distant city of 
tents. The shells were still bursting regularly 
over it. 

“Do you think we shall really have to use the 
cave?” she asked. 

“Not unless they begin to shell the town from the 
rear. Jeremiah can fix it up for us in case we need 
it.” The old negro’s eyes still shone with joy. 

“ I’se doin’ dat now, Miss Agathy. I’se done tuk 
sum of yer geraniums down dar already, and I’se 
gwine ter hab de place lookin’ like er parlour befo’ 
dis day is ober.” 


230 


Ill 


AGATHA came out on the back porch early next 
morning, and seeing Jeremiah currying the horses in 
front of the barn, she walked down there and sat on 
the edge of the water trough near him. 

“Miss Agathy, I’se powerful glad you is back 
heah agin,” was his morning greeting to her. Each 
one of his prominent white teeth glistened in con- 
trast to his skin. 

“ But yer hasn’t told me what yer done wid Selim.” 

Agatha turned her head away and looked over the 
hills. 

“He is gone, Jeremiah,” she said slowly. “We’ll 
never see him again.” 

“Gone whar?” the old negro asked. “Did de 
Yankees steal him?” 

“ They tried to, but I wouldn’t let them.” 

“ I knowed yer wouldn’t,” Jeremiah answered. 
“ Whut you done said ter dem ? ” 

His eyes brightened with his interest. 

231 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“ I didn’t say anything. I just shot him.” 

The curry comb fell from Jeremiah’s hand. 
“Lordy, Miss Agathy, did you do dat?” he gasped. 

“ Yes, I did, right at the spot you told me, between 
the ears. And you should have seen him, Jeremiah. 
He just knelt down in front of me and laid himself 
comfortably out on the ground. He didn’t groan or 
anything. Oh! I hope I didn’t hurt him — I hope I 
didn’t.” 

There were tears in Jeremiah’s eyes when she 
finished. He turned to the horse and began currying 
him violently, muttering indignantly to himself. 

Agatha sat there and watched him a long time in 
silence. 

“I am going down to the cave, Jeremiah,” she 
finally said, rising and passing by him. 

“ Youse jest gwine be tickled to death with that 
cave, Miss Agathy. I’se fixed it up jest like er 
house.” 

He dropped the brush and followed her. They 
went out of the barn-yard and passed through the 
orchard to the sloping ground that led down to the 
cave. 

Agatha went lightly along, jumping the bad 

232 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

places, reaching the cave a few minutes before the 
old man. 

A smile of interest and amusement was on her face 
as she stopped on the terrace, for in the bright, 
morning light the place looked comfortable and 
inviting. 

A large piece of matting covered the ground. A 
table and some comfortable rocking chairs were 
placed about. At one side a wire stand, with several 
pots of flowering geraniums upon it, gave the place 
a homelike look. 

Agatha went up to the flowers, touching them 
with the hands of a lover, and then turned to enter 
the cave. 

A man stood in the entrance looking at her. 

“You!” she gasped. 

She thought at first that she was dreaming, or 
that it was an hallucination like the one she expe- 
rienced by the camp fire and all through her sleep, 
but in a moment she knew this time that it was indeed 
he. The strangeness of his civilian dress, the danger 
of the situation, all flashed through her mind in a 
second as he came toward her. 

Suddenly she held her finger to her lips and turned 
233 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


away. Running to the edge of the terrace, she called 
to Jeremiah to go back to the barn ; that she wanted 
to be alone. She watched him go slowly up the hill, 
and disappear in the direction of the orchard. Then 
she turned toward the cave, and walked up to Silas, 
starting as she noticed the blood-stained ground at 
his feet. 

“Why are you here? What does it all mean?” 
she asked, conflicting emotions of fear and curiosity 
stirring in her voice. 

Silas looked at her a moment before answering. 
He had not yet got over the joy of beholding 
Agatha, and had with difficulty restrained a shout of 
j oy when he saw who it was. And now she was stand- 
ing there before him, in a dainty white gown, the 
freshness of her morning toilette still shedding a 
fragrance about her, her pure, pale face turned up 
to him, with the deep black eyes of wonder. As he 
stood there, silently drinking in the sight, he was 
deciding whether to tell her the truth. 

“ I came through the lines last night as a spy. I 
am hiding here — for the present.” 

Agatha shrank back as he spoke. An expression 
of disgust came into her face. 

234 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


Silas flushed under the look in her eyes and stood 
silently waiting for her to speak. He could not tell 
her the motive that had actuated him in volunteering 
as a spy, lest it might condemn him even more in her 
estimation. 

They gazed at each other for several endless 
moments, each waiting for the other to speak. 

“Surely you can’t expect me to protect you?” 
Agatha asked at last. “You say you are a spy.” 
Her voice showed her contempt. “ You have come 
into our town to find out our weakness ; then you will 
go back to your army and tell them what you have 
found out. Am I right?” 

Her voice came low and distinct. 

“You have said what the word implies.” Silas 
answered. 

“ And now you are at my mercy, do you expect me 
to protect you ? I know what you will say : that you 
brought me safely back to my home from the hands 
of the enemy. But there was nothing dishonourable 
in that. It could mean no harm to either side.” 

She stopped a moment helplessly. “ Oh, why did 
you do this? ” she said. “ You, of all the thousands 
of others.” 


235 


O F 


THE HEART 


HOPE 


Silas did not reply. He felt that to tell her the 
truth would be an insult. 

When she had finished speaking, he looked away 
from her, down over the green valley. The expres- 
sion of yearning in his eyes hurt Agatha, as the 
clashing emotions in her heart thrilled her. 

Her patriotism was too well grounded to let grati- 
tude destroy it. The conflict of right and wrong 
showed plainly in her face. 

“ No, I cannot do it. It would be dishonour- 
able.” 

At her last word a groan came from the inside of 
the cave. 

Silas turned and looked at her beseechingly, 
despair in his eyes. At the sight of Agatha Nathan 
had been forgotten. 

“ What is it ? ” she asked in alarm. 

“ My brother Nathan. He was shot in crossing 
the lines. That is why we had to stop here.” 

“ Is he badly wounded ? ” 

“ It is a broken arm, and a large wound which 
will take long to heal. I have bound it up as best I 
could.” 

The full force of the situation came to Agatha as 
236 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


he spoke. He made a step toward her and took her 
hands tightly in his own. 

“ You must help — you shall. Only assist me with 
Nathan, until he is able to move, and I will take him 
back into our lines, saying nothing. On my honour, 
I will. Won’t you help me now?” 

He looked at her pleadingly. She could see his 
unselfish love for his brother burning in his eyes. 

“ He is my brother,” Silas continued. “ I blame 
myself entirely for this trouble. If it had not been 
for me he would be safely in the camp now.” 

He sat down on one of the chairs in .a hopeless 
way. 

Agatha was still struggling to decide upon a 
course of action. Her love for the cause that was 
making her people go to war was a part of herself. 
The suffering and privation to which they had been 
subjected during the two past years had only 
increased her love for the Confederate States and 
their rights. A loathing for the Federals had grown 
into her being since Butler’s Code, issued in New 
Orleans, had swept the whole South like a firebrand, 
leaving a burning hatred where before had been only 
natural antipathy. 


237 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


But, insistent above all, was her appreciation of 
what she owed this man. All her arguments gradually 
weakened before it, leaving her with but one desire 
— to help him in his extremity. 

She made a step toward him, saying, “ I will help 
you — on one condition.” 

“And that is?” 

“ That you will not leave here until the siege is 
over and your army is driven away.” 

Silas could not repress a smile at her expression. 
The vision of the tremendous army camped around 
the city rose up before him in all its might. He 
knew that it had come to stay until the flag of the 
Union hung on that grey clock tower. 

“You shall not go back into your lines with all 
you know — but I will help you. You will be safe 
here.” 

The decision was made; she would help him in his 
trouble, and in his care of his wounded brother, she 
would protect them from discovery, but there her help 
must end. 

Silas saw all this plainly before she had spoken, 
and when she finished, he replied, “ Then we are your 
prisoners.” 


238 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Agatha sat down in the chair, lost in thought. 
The difficulty of the situation seemed to grow now 
that she had consented to help them. How could she 
keep a secret from her father? It would be the first 
time she had ever done so. Yet she must have help, 
to provide the men with care and food. There was 
no one to do it but Jeremiah. She rose at the 
thought and told Silas her plan. 

44 You see I must have someone to help us. Jere- 
miah will do what I say, and assist me in keeping it 
from the others.” 

44 You know best,” Silas said. He was leaving the 
situation entirely in her hands. She must act for 
them all. 

44 We must have a doctor,” he said decidedly. 

“ Is it absolutely necessary?” she asked in dis- 
may. 

44 The danger of erysipelas is great. You know 
it is developing in all the uncared-for wounds, and, 
besides, I have nothing to dress it with.” 

44 But how can I get you a doctor, without telling 
everything? Don’t you see that it will be impos- 
sible? ” Her face showed great anxiety. 

44 Then what can we do ? ” Silas asked. “*He must 
239 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

not remain in this condition. I shall have to tell all, 
and have him taken to a hospital in order to get 
well enough to be ” 

“Hush — don’t say it.” Agatha threw her hands 
up to her ears to keep out the words. 

“ Well, what else is there to do? Can you think of 
anything ? ” 

Silas began to stride up and down the terrace. 
Iron walls seemed to be hammering down upon him 
from all sides. 

There was no escape in any direction. 

“ I am going to the house now,” Agatha said at 
last. “ I am going to tell J eremiah to bring you 
something to eat, while LJ go search for bandages and 
ointments to dress the wound with. Don’t walk out 
so far. They can see you from the house.” 

She turned away from him and walked from the 
terrace. She had gone a few paces when she stopped, 
hesitated a moment and then went back to Silas. 

Her face was a deep crimson when she spoke to 
him. 

“ I have your word of honour that you will not 
attempt to get away.” 

“You have.” 


240 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


He spoke low and distinctly. His eyes looked 
straight into hers. She turned away, satisfied that 
he would keep his word, and walked slowly up to the 
barn, busily formulating plans. As she came toward 
Jeremiah his voice startled her. 

“How did you like it, Miss Agathy?” 

He was rapidly running a wet sponge over the 
body of the old buggy, and as he dropped it back 
into the bucket of water he looked up, for the ex- 
pected praise. 

“ It looks very fine, Jeremiah.” Agatha stood 
close by the buggy, glancing around to see if any- 
one else was near. 

“ Listen, J eremiah — I want to tell you some- 
thing.” 

She stepped nearer to him, and lowered her voice. 

“ The man that brought me back home yesterday 
is hiding down there with his brother, who is 
wounded.” 

Jeremiah stretched his eyes wide until the whites 
looked unnatural amid the black of his face. Then 
he uttered a low whistle. 

“ Is dey Yanks, Miss Agathy ? ” he said in a sepul- 
chral tone. 


241 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


Agatha nodded. 

“ Den what is dey doin’ heah ? ” 

“‘They were in the battle yesterday, and one of 
them got shot, and the other brought him over here 
to get some medicine. They did not have any in 
their camp.” 

Agatha told the lie with shaking bps. 

“ So dey is got ter cum ober heah to git treated ? 99 

“Yes, but you must not let anybody know, Jere- 
miah. For if it is known and they are found out, 

they will be ” She stopped, and Jeremiah finished 

the sentence by running his finger around his throat, 
and coughing. 

Agatha turned away her face, in horror. 

“ Don’t you ever do that again, Jeremiah, unless 
you want to hurt me very much.” 

“ Does yer like him very much ? ” The cunning old 
negro looked up at her keenly. 

Agatha caught at the opportunity to get better 
service. 

“ Yes, Jeremiah,” she said. “ So much that if they 
were discovered, I believe it would kill me.” 

“ Den, I’se gwine help yer all I kin, if he is a 
Yankee.” 


242 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“Then come with me,” she said, leading the way 
to the house. 

She first went into the smoke-house, and had Jere- 
miah take down several hams and pieces of bacon 
that were hanging to the dingy rafters. He laid 
them outside the door, and followed her into the 
rooms under the back porch, which were used for 
kitchen, pantry, and store-rooms. Agatha glanced 
around the walls, noticing with alarm the rapidly 
dwindling supplies on the shelves. She knew that 
nothing of any consequence could be bought in the 
town. The supply there had been almost exhausted 
a month ago. 

She filled two large baskets with jars of preserved 
figs, bread, and packages of other edibles, which 
would last several days, and in that way reduce the 
quantity to be carried daily to the cave. She knew 
that she would have to exercise all her ingenuity to 
keep Hester from finding out her secret. 

After giving Jeremiah all he could carry, she 
stood and watched him slowly descend the hill toward 
the cave. “ I am getting it well stocked in case we 
have to go down there, Hester,” she replied to the 
negro woman’s questions. 


24 3 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“Fur Gawd’s sake, Miss Agathy, is dey goin’ ter 
begin shootin at dis house agin? ” 

“Not that I know of, Hester, but they might at 
any time.” 


214 


IV 


AGATHA went upstairs, and searched about the 
house for old pieces of cloth and materials that could 
be used for bandages. She found several bottles of 
tinctures and medicines, but not many suitable for 
the care of wounds. She sat down by an open win- 
dow discouraged. Would the shells never stop? 
She turned her head away from the throbbing, heated 
glare outside, and began again to think over the 
dangerous position in which she was placed. 

It was the first time she had done anything impor- 
tant without her father’s help. She had gone to him 
with all her little problems and told him everything, 
getting the benefit of his mature judgment. But 
now she was like a boat without a rudder. The 
thought that these men’s lives rested on her decision 
increased her anxiety. She became so anxious to 
speak to her father about it, that she got up 
and went quickly down to the library before she 
could change her mind. He was not there, but from 
the window she saw him sitting in the cool shade of 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


his favourite magnolia tree, a broad Panama hat 
pulled well over his face, and a palmetto fan moving 
slowly in one hand while he held a book in the other. 

Agatha gazed at him affectionately. Surely noth- 
ing but sympathy and consideration for those in 
trouble could come from such a man, she thought, as 
she looked at him. 

She got her sunbonnet and went out into the 
garden. 

“Father,” she said, resting her hand on the back 
of his chair, “would it be my duty if I should ever 

meet the man who brought me back to town ” 

She sat down on the. bench as her excitement grew, 
“Would it be my duty to help him get away if he 
were a prisoner? ” Mr. Windom turned in his chair 
and looked at her. The protecting sunbonnet hid 
her face. 

“Why do you ask, Agatha?” he said. 

“ Oh, I only wanted to know how much he had done 
for me and how much I ought to appreciate it.” 

She tried to speak carelessly. 

“ He probably was a courteous gentleman and 
took pity on a woman in distress. You owe him a 
great debt of gratitude for helping you get back 
246 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


to your home. But he was not wrong in assisting 
you. You were not fighting, nor a spy, and it could 
make no difference to either side where you were. 
With him it would be different of course. You 
could not help him to escape without being dishon- 
ourable to your country.” 

“What if he were wounded, father?” Agatha 
insisted. 

“ Then he should be turned over to a surgeon and 
placed in the proper place — a hospital.” 

Agatha’s hands were clasped in her lap. 

“ Then you don’t think it would be our duty to 
care for him and protect him until he recovered?” 

“ No, certainly not.” Mr. Windom’s reply was 
very decided. 

He picked up the book and began reading where 
he had left off. He did not wish to lend too great 
importance to the subject in Agatha’s mind. He 
felt that she was over impressed by what the soldier 
had done for her, and it was his desire to make her 
forget it as soon as possible now that she was safely 
home. The quiet, secluded life he had led for so long 
kept him from seeing any other side. 

Agatha took the signal when he raised the book 
247 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


and began to read, and went back into the house 
listlessly. She was alone now — utterly alone. Her 
father did not approve of what she was doing; she 
must take the rsponsibility herself. Her only assist- 
ant would be Jeremiah, and he would simply be capa- 
ble of carrying out a few orders. She thought of 
the few Union sympathisers that were in the town, 
but they could not help her without her father know- 
ing it. Besides, pride kept her from asking aid of 
the people whom all her friends were shunning. 

She grabbed up the bundle of cloth, and the 
bottles, and started out into the hall. The front door 
stood open, and she saw a man on horseback going 
by the house, evidently to the large fort on the hill. 
Agatha recognised him as one of the soldiers 
stationed there. 

44 I have good news for you,” he called out as he 
went by. She dropped the bundles and ran out to 
the gate. 

64 There is to be no shelling to-morrow,” the man 
continued. 44 They are going to stop for a day to 
give the men a chance to bury the dead who were 
killed in yesterday’s battle. You can go to town, or 
have a party, or do anything you want to.” 

248 



WHAT IF HE WERE WOUNDED, FATHER? ’ 
AGATHA INSISTED ” 






THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Silas, recounting all sorts of anecdotes and expe- 
riences to his interested listener. It was Silas’ first 
experience with the Southern negro, and he was much 
entertained by his dialect and quaint expressions. 

When Agatha handed Silas the bandages he went 
directly into the cave to look after his brother, 
leaving Jeremiah and Agatha on the terrace alone. 

44 You are my only help, Jeremiah,” Agatha said, 
sitting down near him. 44 My father does not 
approve of what I am doing, and would give them 
up if he knew they were here. You must help me all 
you can.” 

46 You knows I will, Miss Agathy,” the old man 
said. The sincerity of his accent encouraged her. 

44 Miss Agathy,” he said, after a pause, 44 don’ 
yer thinks I bettah tell dem ’bout de well inside de 
cave ? Dey mout haf to hide sum day ; yer can’t tell 
when sum pussons is gwine cum meddlin’ ’round 
heah.” 

Agatha looked interested. 

44 1 didn’t know there was a well, J eremiah. Where 
is it?” 

44 It’s in er corner of de cave — way back. Dey use 
ter say dat wuz de way de gamblers got de boys out. 

250 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Dej ain’t no water in it now, and de hole goes all de 
way to de creek. You kin crawl trou if yer want to ! ” 

Agatha was listening intently now. 

I never heard of that before, Jeremiah. Are you 
sure? ” 

The old negro stepped towards the cave. 

“ Cum in heah and I’ll show it to yer.” 

Agatha hesitated a moment. 

Ask him if I may.” 

She pointed towards the opening. 

Silas heard her and called out, “ Come right in, 
and help me be doctor.” 

She entered the small opening, and stood in a large, 
vaulted room. 

As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light 
she could see plainly the things about her. Pieces 
of old carpet were strewn about on the floor, chairs 
were there, and an old sofa which Agatha remem- 
bered had been stored away in the attic for years. 
Hester and Jeremiah had evidently searched for all 
the old, unused things that they could find. Wash 
basins, tubs, and several buckets of water stood on 
the shelf which was made in the earthen wall. The 
negroes had heard what the cave dwellers were using 
251 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


in the town, and had taken them for example. Two 
small beds could be dimly seen in the back of the 
cave. Hester had added a personal touch to the 
place by hanging her most treasured picture in a 
gloomy recess. She called it “The Tree of Life.” 
It represented a most flourishing tree, with large 
apples of different colours hanging from it. On each 
one was printed in large, black type the name of a 
virtue. Hester had memorised the names with 
Agatha’s help, and knew what virtue each apple 
represented by its colour. 

Near the opening where the light sifted in and 
the air was fresh, lay Nathan on a couch. Silas was 
tying up his wound and pouring the tincture over 
the bandage. 

Agatha stood beside him, and looked down at the 
wounded man. They smiled their recognition to each 
other. He held out his hand and she took it in 
her own. 

“You are our good angel,” he said, the sweet 
expression coming into his eyes. 

Jeremiah called Agatha to the other end of the 
cave, where the gloom was almost impenetrable. He 
had lifted up a heavy iron slab and was peering down 
252 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


into a black opening. Agatha leaned over and looked 
down into the hole. She could faintly hear the 
gurgling water, seemingly a long way off. 

Silas came up, and joined them. 

“ How deep is it ? ” he asked. 

“ ’Bout ten feet, sah,” Jeremiah answered. “ Yer 
kin git down ter de bottom easy on dis side.” 

He pointed to some cut-out places on the side of 
the well. 

“ I am going into town to-morrow,” Agatha said, 
as they turned away. “There is to be no shelling 
because they are going to bury the dead of both 
sides in the trenches. While I am there I will see 
a doctor, and get some medicine.” 

“ Couldn’t we get back to the army if there is to 
be a cessation of hostilities ? ” 

A gleam of hope flashed into Silas’ eyes. 

Agatha shook her head slowly. 

“The hostilities will cease only for the day. I 
should be a traitor if I let you return, and I will not 
be a traitor — I will not!" 

She turned quickly from him, and fled up the hill 
before her determination could weaken. 


253 


V 


THE intermission came. The morning of the day 
of rest dawned quiet and still. It was the first time 
the besieged town had know a calm day for months. 
People rushed from their houses, with the cessation 
of the guns, happy in one day’s freedom from the 
shower of death. The caves gave up their pale-faced 
inmates, like the grave its dead. There was a wild 
clamour for the sunlight — fresh air — fresh clothes. 

Jeremiah and Hester rose before daybreak, even 
before the mortars had ceased their night’s work. 
Mr. Windom had told them they could have the day 
to themselves, and they had put on the best clothes 
they possessed and prepared to go into town for a 
day’s recreation. 

Hester had tied her black, matted hair into a flam- 
ing red and yellow bandanna. Her green and purple 
calico gown, gathered about her waist in ample folds, 
was set off with a much ruffled apron which Agatha 
had given her years ago. 

Jeremiah looked at her with pride as she came out 
254 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


of the kitchen ready for the day’s excursion, a large 
basket on her arm. 

“Fo’ de Lawd, nigger, you must be thinkin’ youse 
gwine to er party. You shore looks fine.” 

Hester showed her appreciation of the compliment 
by a broad and gracious smile. 

“What you gwine do wid dat basket,” Jeremiah 
continued. 

“ I’se gwine git sum fresh vittles for dese white 
foks to eat. I’se jest tired to death wid stale 
things.” 

Jeremiah brought the horse, already hitched to the 
buggy, out to the front gate, and tied him to the 
hitching post. It was left there in readiness for Mr. 
Windom and Agatha, when they should go into town. 

Mr. Windom went into the garden after break- 
fast to read The Daily Citizen , as was his morning 
routine. The soldiers on their way to the fort left 
it every morning on the gate post. The little sheet 
had dwindled lately into a mere scrap, but Mr. Win- 
dom still read it with avidity. He had realised, 
when the huge army settled down around the town, 
that nothing but the concentrated force of the Con- 
federate army could move the besiegers. 

255 


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HOPE 


The paper, that morning, was filled with the events 
to take place that day, the number of dead, and 
where they were to be buried. As usual, there was a 
reference to the coming of Johnson. Each day, the 
paper said, brought him nearer to relieve them. 

Agatha remained in the house, after breakfast, 
ostensibly to prepare for their day in town. As 
soon as her father had gone to the garden she went 
rapidly downstairs to the kitchen. Putting a tray 
on the table, she filled it with what was left from 
breakfast. She heated the pot of coffee, toasted the 
high rolls and waffles, and covered the tray, when it 
was filled, with a crisp white napkin. 

Seeing her father still sitting in the garden, she 
raised the tray carefully in her hands, and went down 
the hill to the cave. 

Silas was lying full length on the matting in front 
of the cave. His arm was thrown back, forming a 
pillow for his tired head, and he was fast asleep, his 
face relaxed from the anxiety Agatha had always seen 
upon it. She looked at him and wondered for the 
first time how old he was. She had never thought 
of it before. His personality, the calm suggestion of 
strength, had made age a neutral feature in her im- 
256 


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HOPE 


pression of him. The idea came to her that he could 
not be much older than his brother. He looked young 
and boyish, lying there in the abandon of rest. 

A movement from within the cave aroused her, and 
she stepped inside softly. 

Nathan had heard her footsteps, and raising him- 
self a little on the couch peered out. When he saw 
Agatha, he fell back into the reclining position, a 
smile of pleasure upon his face. 

She pulled a chair close beside his couch and set 
the tray upon it. 

“He is asleep,” she said softly, pointing towards 
the opening, “ and I did not want to wake him. He 
needs it badly.” 

Nathan smiled his appreciation. 

“ It seems so quiet this morning. Why is it P ” 
he asked. 

“I feel lost without that incessant noise. It has 
grown to be a regular lullaby and I can’t sleep with- 
out it. This dead quiet oppresses me.” 

Agatha looked at him incredulously. 

“ A lullaby,” she exclaimed. “ A lullaby of death. 
That is what it is to the town. They have stopped 
shelling to-day to give both sides a chance to bury 
257 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

their dead. A great many were killed in that battle. 
Were you in the fight that day? ” 

Nathan became silent when she spoke of the fight. 
He lay staring fixedly at her. The dull expression 
that had lingered so long in his face that day came 
back to it again. The look frightened Agatha, and 
she began to move away a little from him. 

“ Don’t leave me,” he said beseechingly. “ You 
are so sympathetic and kind. You are a woman and 
can help me.” He shifted his position and leaned 
on the edge of the couch. 

“ Come and sit down by me, please.” 

Agatha pushed a chair near to the couch and sat 
down beside him. Nathan put out his hand and 
reached for hers. She took hold of it and let it rest 
in hers. 

“I want to tell you something that is killing me, 
you will not be frightened, will you? ” 

Agatha shook her head quickly. It was with an 
effort that she controlled herself. The wild expres- 
sion in Nathan’s eyes alarmed her. She thought the 
wound must have made him delirious. 

He gripped her hand firmly, and raised himself a 
little. The words came in a husky whisper : 


258 


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HOPE 


“lama coward! ” 

He fell back on the couch exhausted. An expres- 
sion of great relief came into his face. He had told, 
at last, the secret that was wearing out his life. He 
did not relax his grip on Agatha’s hand. The pain 
of it had become excruciating to her. He held to it, 
as a drowning man to a straw. 

She waited for him to begin speaking again, but 
he lay silent, a long time, his breath coming in hard 
gasps. “ Perhaps you are mistaken,” Agatha began, 
breaking the long silence. She thought he must 
have become unconscious. “ You may have not been 
yourself.” 

Nathan turned towards her. again. 

“ Ah, but I was ! It was premeditated. I knew 
what I was going to do before I went into the battle. 
I was crazy with terror. The first opportunity that 
came to me, I looked about for protection. There 
was a log bridge across the creek near where I was 
lying. I edged closer to it every chance I got. 
When the order came to charge, Silas rose from 
beside me and rushed forward. I saw my oppor- 
tunity, jumped up, ran towards the bridge and 
crawled securely under it.” 

259 


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He stopped a moment in his excitement. Agatha 
felt as if his grip were breaking her fingers. 

“ It seemed to me that I lay there years and years. 
The men tramping above me sounded as if they were 
beating down the bridge. I was paralysed with 
fright. My limbs hung stiff and cold to my body. 
I must have been mad. I did not tremble, but an icy, 
numb feeling left me powerless. It must be that 
way when one is dead. Time seemed to be standing 
still. Then, when I began to regain consciousness, I 
heard the men coming back over the bridge. When 
the blood began to thaw in my veins, I raised my 
head and looked out. The army was retreating in 
confusion. I saw my chance, crept out quickly, and 
mixed with the running crowd. No one ever knew. 
Not even Silas.” He stopped again, and furtively 
peered out through the opening of the cave. 

“ Oh, how I’ve hated and despised myself, since 
then ! To think that Silas was in the front, urging 
the men on like a demon, rushing up to the embank- 
ment, and planting our flag gloriously on the enemy’s 
ground, while I was hiding down there under the 
bridge. I — the coward — the traitor.” He released 
Agatha’s hand, and turned his face away from her. 

260 


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He could not bear to see condemnation in her 
eyes. 

If he had only looked, he would not have seen that, 
only a deep pity for the distressed soul that suffered. 
She leaned towards him and took his hand again. 

“ You will be braver next time. It was your first 
battle. It was only natural.” The comforting 
words fell from her lips like balm upon Nathan’s 
troubled mind. He looked at her less doubtfully. 

“You see he had an object,” he said, nodding 
towards Silas. “ That gave him strength and cour- 
age. He was fighting for something beyond.” 

Agatha leaned closer, as the whispered words came 
from his lips. 

“What object did he have?” she asked eagerly. 

Nathan smiled up at her. 

“Don’t you know?” he said. 

“No, how could I?” she answered. Her hand 
shook a little as she held his. 

“ He wanted to get to you. He wanted to be by 
your side again. He has thought of nothing else 
since he first saw you.” 

Agatha dropped his hand, and rose to her feet. 
She was glad that the glow of the cave hid her flushed 
261 


HOPE 


THE HEART OF 

face. What Nathan had said did not come to her 
as a shock. She wondered afterwards that she had 
not exclaimed, or asked him some questions. A calm 
seemed to have come to her, with his explanation, and 
all that Silas had done for her stood out in complete 
detail, his kindness towards her, his kissing her hands 
when they had parted that night. She felt that a 
great responsibility was falling from her, that she 
was doing right in protecting them. A quiet satis- 
faction possessed her soul as she walked back to 
Nathan. 

“ I am going into town with my f ather this morn- 
ing,” she said. “What shall I get for your wound? 
Does it pain you much now?” 

Nathan saw she did not wish to continue the con- 
versation. “ It throbs a good deal and is very hot,” 
he answered. “ Get something that will cool it.” 

Agatha poured out a cup of coffee, and handed it 
to him. 

“ I’m going now. I will not awaken him as I go 
out. Tell him everyone on the place is away, and 
to keep on the lookout for strangers.” 

She pressed Nathan’s hand gently, and went out 
into the light. 


262 


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Silas was still sleeping, the shade of the flower- 
stand protecting his face from the sun. Agatha 
stopped again, and looked at him. It was with a new 
feeling now, a knowledge which made her timid, as 
she stood near him. She felt a great desire to kneel 
down beside him as he lay there, to take his head in 
her arms and softly caress the heavy black hair. She 
involuntarily made a step forward ; then caught 
herself. 

Turning away softly, she went up to the house, 
and to her room. 


263 


VI 


SHE sat down in the cool, darkened room, and lost 
herself in a mist of memories. The great happiness 
still flooded her whole being, and she sat, quietly con- 
tented, under the spell. 

Suddenly a new purpose came to her, that she 
should make herself beautiful. She arose, and went 
to a large armoire, which filled almost the whole side 
of her room, and began pulling out a quantity of 
dresses. She threw them on the bed and looked them 
over carefully. 

The bright colours made a gorgeous display in 
their confusion. There were delicate tinted poplins, 
and taffetas, ruffled and embroidered linens, heavy 
brocades, and whole gowns of dainty tarletans. They 
were over a year old now, and had come from the far 
distant cities that had been cut off from the besieged 
town for many months. In fact, nothing of the 
outer world, its styles and doings, had reached the 
little town for more than a year. 

264 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

Agatha wanted to put on the prettiest frock she 
possessed, to make herself look as attractive as possi- 
ble. Selecting a white poplin gown, trimmed with 
puffings of tarletan and black velvet, she put it on 
carefully, noting the effect of every detail. Then 
picking out of the mass on the bed a Tunis shawl of 
pale green and white stripes she threw it over her 
shoulders, and stood looking at herself in the tall 
cheval glass. It did not please her, and she took it 
off impatiently. She tried another frock of pink 
challis, with a little paletot of white silk, but not find- 
ing this satisfactory, she took this off also, and began 
dressing her hair low on her neck. Then she tried 
other frocks until she at last stood before the mirror 
in the only one that had not been tested. It was of 
old rose-coloured poplin, buttoned all the way down 
the front from high under the chin, to the floor. 
Huge pockets were placed on either side of the skirt, 
edged with a deep ruching. Her bonnet was of the 
same stuff as the gown, a large bowl in shape, and 
ornamented with a long plume that curled and 
drooped towards the back. Long streamers of pink 
ribbon hung down from the bonnet, with artificial 
roses placed at regular intervals. 

265 


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HOPE 


Agatha stood looking at herself intently, a delicate 
flush colouring her features. Her eyes sparkled and 
her lips were parted a little, showing the brilliant 
teeth. There was an elation, an expectancy in the 
pose, which had never been there before. In the 
reflection, she saw the change in herself as clearly as 
she had seen the character lines which developed after 
the horrible scenes in the country. 

Once more she looked into the mirror, and felt satis- 
fied. Then she went to her father in the garden and 
told him she was ready. He glanced at her proudly 
as they walked to the gate. 

“You are getting more like your mother every 
day, Agatha,” he said. “ I have noticed it since you 
came back from the country. Her expression has 
come to you lately. You know she and her sister 
were considered beauties in those wild, unsettled days. 
They were almost exactly alike.” 

“Were they both dark like me, father?” Agatha 
asked. 

“Yes, you are the embodiment of them both,” he 
said, looking at her admiringly again. 

The stillness was almost appalling, as they drove 
towards the town. The penetrating quiet was still 
266 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

strange to their unaccustomed ears. It was as if the 
life had gone out of the atmosphere. 

As they crossed the bridge at the bayou gay noises 
began to come to them from the town. A band was 
playing at the Court House Square, and the merry 
sound was wafted across the city. People were 
crowding the streets, and stirring about everywhere. 

Crowds of girls and children were running along, 
crying aloud with joy at their one day of freedom. 
The yards were filled with the women and children of 
the houses working steadily at the tubs, laundring 
the soiled linen. They had not had the chance to 
bathe for weeks. Others were busily engaged in 
sweeping out the houses. It was a real cleaning time, 
the first they had had that spring. 

Agatha and her father drove up the long street 
into the town, stopping often to speak to groups of 
their friends. Every familiar face they saw carried 
upon it a smile of hope and encouragement. 

Agatha had told her father how low their supply 
of provisions was becoming, and he drove first to 
the business street, stopping in front of the largest 
grocery store. She remained in the buggy while her 
father pushed his way in among the impatient crowd 
267 


THE 


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HOPE 


before the door. Everyone was in search of food at 
the same time, and the excitement was almost a panic. 

Presently Melinda emerged from the crowd, and 
hastened to greet Agatha. 

“ I hope you’re feeling rich to-day,” she said, hold- 
ing up a small bundle. “ That cost — well, you’ll 
see.” 

“As much as your bonnet?” asked Agatha, 
smiling. 

“ Oh, that bonnet ! I declare some of it’s sticking 
to my hair yet,” cried the girl. 

“ What with that and living in the cave I’m worn 
out! Horrid damp hole, makes me look just like a 
suet pudding.” 

“Yes, with turpentine sauce,” Agatha called out, 
as her friend hurried away with her precious package. 

Mr. Windom came out after a long time greatly 
excited. He held in his hand a list of what he had 
been able to buy, which he gave to Agatha, with a 
grim smile. 

“ I paid one thousand dollars for that,” he said. 

Agatha picked up the receipted bill, and looked 
over the items. She read the list aloud, as her father 
drove along. 


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“ One barrel of flour ; one barrel of molasses ; one 
sack of meal ; one bag of peas ; one bag of rice ; one 
bushel of potatoes.” 

“But there is no coffee on the list, father?” 

“ There is none in town,” replied Mr. Windom. 

The exaggerated prices had become common to 
them now. Fear had begun to take hold of the peo- 
ple a year ago, and from that time on, the Confed- 
erate currency gradually lots its value. People 
would only take it when they could get nothing 
else. 

Mr. Windom soon left Agatha at the hospital 
where she had told him she wished to leave the 
bandages. They were to meet later in the day at 
Mrs. Sentrill’s. 

The hospital was a large, white house, with an 
extensive yard and trees surrounding it. 

Agatha opened the gate and went hastily up the 
walk. The wounded soldiers lying about in the yard 
brought back all the horrible memories again. She 
rang the door bell several times but the repeated ring 
brought no one. It only echoed harshly through the 
empty hall. The door stood half open, and she could 
see in the adjoining room men lying about on the 
269 


THE 


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HOPE 


bare floor. She walked into the hall a little way, 
looking around for someone with whom to speak. 
A woman, dressed in the black costume of a nun, came 
slowly down the staircase from the floor above. She 
looked critically at Agatha, her eyes resting on the 
fine dress. She did not stop to speak to her, but 
went on towards the room. 

44 Can you tell me where I shall find the physician? ” 
Agatha asked, stepping in front of the woman. 

The nun raised her eyes, shaking her head sorrow- 
fully. 46 They don’t come here much. They come 
during the quiet hours, when the guns are resting 
from the shelling.” 

44 Then you stay here alone all the time ? ” Agatha 
asked in amazement. 

44 Some men are here to help me. The women said 
they could not stand it. It was too horrible. The 
sights here frightened them? ” 

There was a tone of biting sarcasm in her voice. 

Agatha glanced beyond the woman into the room. 

44 Haven’t you beds for them ? Is it necessary to 
leave them on the floor like that?” 

The nun assented sadly. 

44 There are no beds. There are no medicines. A 
270 


THE 


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HOPE 


shell burst in the medicine room, and we lost them 
all” 

“ And the people in the town are not helping you P ” 

The woman remained silent a moment. 

“They are so frightened and starved themselves, 
poor souls, you cannot expect anything from 
them.” 

Agatha turned away. The tears were streaming 
down her face. She grasped the woman*s hand, and 
kissed it. 

“ God help you,” she said softly. 

“ His will be done,” the nun answered, gazing into 
the crowded room of dying men. 

Agatha went back to the street, and walked along 
slowly beneath the over-spreading trees. The awful 
horror of the hospital, and the comfort of her own 
home stood out, glaringly, before her. She was 
ashamed of herself for doing nothing to relieve the 
suffering of others. A strong wish to help the nun 
came to her. Then the memory of the work before 
her at home came back and she walked more rapidly 
towards Mrs. Sentrill’s home. 

When she reached there, she found Mrs. Sentrill 
in the yard, superintending her two negro women, 
271 


THE 


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HOPE 


who were washing the clothes and hanging them out 
in the sunlight on the fence to dry. She was filled 
with activity and excitement# The twelve hours’ relief 
was too short for her to accomplish half of her work. 
When she saw Agatha, she rushed to her and put her 
arms about her. “ I am so glad to see you, child. 
Robert tells me you were all upset when you got back. 
He says you don’t seem to be the same girl, but I told 
him you would get over that soon. You were just a 
little nervous, weren’t you, dear? ” She led Agatha 
to the shady porch, and they sat down in easy rock- 
ing chairs. Mrs. Sentrill insisted on having all the 
details of Agatha’s experience in the country, and 
the hours passed swiftly as they sat there talking 
over the possibilities of the siege. The sun was low- 
ering in the western sky when Agatha rose. 

“ Mrs. Sentrill,” she said, “ I have just been to the 
hospital to get some medicine in case any of us got 
wounded out home, but they haven’t a thing to give 
me. I thought possibly you might have something 
that I could get to take out with me. The negroes 
are alarmed very much since the battle the other day. 
The bullets fell all about the place, even broke a pane 
of glass in one of the windows.” 

272 


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HOPE 


Mrs. Sentrill took Agatha into the house with her, 
and opening the door to a big closet in the hall, she 
picked out several bottles of medicine, explaining the 
use of each. She also gave her a small chest of little 
bottles, medicine which she said she never used, and 
which might prove very serviceable. As they went 
back to the porch, Robert came up the walk towards 
them. 

As he approached Agatha, he smiled and started 
to kiss her. She gave him her hand, holding herself 
a little aloof. A look of surprise and disappoint- 
ment came into his face, but he said nothing. 

“ Your father met me at the Court House, and told 
me to come here and take you home. He has found 
a wagon to carry the provisions back, and will wait 
to go with it. I think we had better start at once. 
The shelling begins again at six o’clock, and it is 
almost that now.” 

Agatha took her bundle from Mrs. Sentrill, and 
started down the walk with Robert. 

“ Take good care of the arnica, Agatha,” Mrs. 
Sentrill called to her as she left. “ 1 hear there is 
very little left in the town. It is a valuable tincture, 
and we may need it at any time.” 

273 


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HOPE 


Robert helped Agatha into the buggy and drove 
rapidly down the hill. 

“ What is mother giving you arnica for, Agatha? ” 
Robert asked. “ That is what they are using in the 
intrenchments for the soldiers’ wounds.” 

Agatha hesitated a moment. It seemed to her that 
now she had begun to lie, there was no end to it. 

“I was afraid the negroes on the place might be 
wounded at some time, and as I had nothing in the 
house that would do in such a case, I asked your 
mother to suggest something for me to get. She 
gave me this. You know it is sometimes very danger- 
ous out home.” 

Robert reached for her hand and pressed it. 

“ Don’t go out much, Agatha,” he said. “ We 
can’t have you hurt.” 

As the horse pulled them slowly up the dug-out 
road, he turned to her suddenly : 

“ Your wanting the medicine reminds me that there 
is a belief along the lines that two Yankee spies have 
made their way into the town.” 

Agatha felt her heart stop beating, but she tried 
to look indifferent. 

“Two nights ago,” he continued, “the sentinels 


274 


THE 


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HOPE 


on the line back of your house saw a black object 
run across the intrenchments and disappear in some 
bushes on this side. They fired, but hearing a dog 
howl a few moments after, did not look further. But 
in the morning they found a coat lying on the outside 
of the embankment, and the footsteps of two men, 
very distinct in the dust. One of them must have 
been shot, for there were bloodstains along the 
ground in the footprints. The men have been 
searching ever since, but cannot find them anywhere. 
The bloodstains disappeared on the ground back of 
your house, over there in the gulley.” He pointed 
to the valley in the rear of her home, which they could 
see plainly now, from the ridge of the hill. “ By 
the way, Agatha, do you ever use that cave, down 
there in the hill. It has just struck me that they 
might be hiding there.” 

Agatha had listened intently while he was talking, 
her hands tightly clasped to keep them from 
trembling. 

“ Yes,” she answered, her voice husky. “ We have 
had it fixed up lately in case we may have to use it. 
You know father has not been to the place in years. 
The associations are too painful. But I was down 
275 


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HOPE 


there a long time yesterday. It is such a cool, quiet 
place to read. Jeremiah and I went all over it, and 
I am sure no one was hiding there then.” 

Robert noticed a slight trembling in her voice, but 
attributed it to the sad memories of the cave. 

44 Anyhow, I think it would be a good idea to have 
the place searched. The men may have concealed 
themselves somewhere. I think I shall report it to 
the Fort, this evening.” 

44 Don’t do that, Robert,” said Agatha quickly. 
44 It will excite f ather and do no good. I have been 
all over the cave and no one could possibly be in it.” 

44 We will not disturb any of you in the least, 
Agatha,” he insisted. 44 It really ought to be done, 
as much for your sake as for the town’s.” 

Agatha’s old affection for Robert was undergoing 
a revolution. From the day she had found out she 
did not love him, a quiet friendship had been left in 
its stead. The association of years had left her with 
a deep fondness for him. But, as he sat beside her, 
insisting upon a search of the cave, a feeling of dis- 
like began to take its place. She moved farther away 
from him, so that the flounce of her skirt could not 
brush against him. 


276 


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HOPE 


As they drove up in front of her house he jumped 
out of the buggy, and held up his arms to assist her, 
but she pretended not to notice and getting out on 
the other side walked to the gate. 

He intercepted her quickly, his face showing anger. 

44 Agatha, I want to know why you are treating me 
this way. You rebuff me each time I come near you. 
What does it mean ? ” 

He stood directly in front of her, so that she was 
compelled to look at him. 

46 You have not been the same since you came back 
from the Federal camp. Did you fall in love with 
the Yankee who helped you to get back home?” 

She flushed under the insult. 

44 1 told you before you went away that I did not 
love you.” Her voice was cold and steady now. 
44 But you would not believe me. You said I did not 
know my mind. You will find out some day that I 
did.” 

44 So I have been cut out by a Yankee, have IP” 

His cutting tones followed her as she turned 
away and went up the walk. 

She went into the garden and waited until 
Robert’s buggy had disappeared in the direction of 
277 


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HOPE 


the Fort. Then she rose quickly and ran through 
the garden down the hill towards the cave. 

Silas had pulled Nathan out of the cave, and sat 
beside him, both breathing in the fresh evening air. 
They looked almost contented. For the moment, 
they had forgotten their danger in the beauty of the 
twilight hour. 

“You are discovered,” Agatha said, quickly draw- 
ing Silas a little away from Nathan. “They have 
found out that you crossed the lines that night, and 
they are searching for you now. Keep inside the 
cave, but remove all signs of having been here, and 
let the well stay open in case you should need it 
quickly. If I can, I will send Jeremiah in time to 
warn you.” 

She turned away quickly, and began to ascend the 
hill before her father and the servants should get 
back home. 

As she reached the top of the hill, she saw Robert 
coming back along the road from the Fort. He 
looked at the house and down into the orchard, then 
raising his hand to shade his eyes from the setting 
sun he looked down the hill towards Agatha. 

She knew that he had seen her. 


278 


VII 


AGATHA sat watching all through the long night. 
She had taken supper with her father as usual, and 
had gone to her room early in the evening, complain- 
ing of a headache — in reality to be alone. 

She waited until she heard her father go to his 
room, and shut the door after him. Then, creeping 
down the long hall which ran the length of the house, 
she went out on the upper porch, and sat down, look- 
ing steadily at the scene before her. 

Near by was the orchard, — a black spot in the dim 
lights, — and beyond the , hills rose clearly outlined 
against the dark sky. She kept her eyes constantly 
on the flat space in front of the cave, except when 
the bursting shells lighted up the sky, when she would 
glance over the near-by ground and back again to 
the same spot. 

The night was suffocatingly hot. There was no 
breeze — no fresh dampness to cool the atmosphere. 

Agatha moved her large palmetto fan back and 
forth in her hand, slowly counting the hours as they 
were tolled out from the clock tower. 

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Down in the orchard another figure was crouch- 
ing in the shadows. She had told Jeremiah to watch 
for anyone who might approach. If Robert had 
alarmed them at the Fort, someone would probably 
come early that night, but she waited in vain. Evi- 
dently they had planned to search without letting 
her know. 

She felt sure now that Robert had told them his 
suspicions. The blood rushed into her face as she 
thought of being a suspect. A woman under sus- 
picion, in her family ! Nothing like it had ever been 
heard of. All of them had been held up as examples 
of their day and generation. Was she to be the one 
to break the proud line ? The word “ Traitor ” 
wrote itself into the black night before her. She 
could see the cold stares of her friends when she 
was pointed out as the woman who had shielded the 
Yankee spies. And worst of all — her father. What 
would he think of her? 

She got up from her chair and walked up and 
down the porch in an agony of fear and suspense. 
Gradually all thought of self was forgotten, and 
Silas appeared before her as she had seen him that 
morning at the cave, lying in the brilliant sunshine, 
280 


THE 


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HOPE 


the youthful look on his sleeping countenance. Her 
whole being thrilled as she thought of him. The 
depth of his black eyes, the strength and force in 
his face, his tall, well-knit figure, each detail came 
back to her with a strengthened intensity. 

She felt a craving to talk with him, have him tell 
her of himself. Ah! to feel his firm, warm grasp on 
her hand, as she had that night in the silent woods. 
She felt again the drowsiness that had come over her, 
when she fell asleep, to awaken with her head pillowed 
on his shoulder, his strong arms holding her tight 
against his breast. She had remained perfectly still 
in his arms, as if asleep, while he climbed up the 
long hill. She could see now the long, thick hair 
on his neck, stirred by her breath, and the brown mole 
under his ear in the very same place where she had 
one. 

And when they parted he had kissed her hands, and 
asked if that was to be all. If that could have been 
all, she said to herself in her misery, if that had 
ended it — peace might have been left to her, but now 
— never. It would be nothing but one long stretch 
of sorrow. The soldiers would come and take him 
away, and she would be called a traitor for having 
281 


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HEART OF 


HOPE 


shielded him. Ah! that would be the only comfort 
left her — to know that when people shunned her it 
would be because of what she had done for him. 

She pulled a light scarf about her shoulders, as 
the night wore itself away, but not until every object 
had become distinct in the morning light did she go 
back into the house. 


232 


VIII 


WHEN she went down to breakfast her father 
noticed her pallor. 

“ What is it, Agatha ? Are you ill ? ” he asked. 

“ No,” she answered. “ Why do you ask, 
father? ” 

“ You look as if you were, my child. I am afraid 
the trip into town was too much for you. I shouldn’t 
go any more for a while if I were you.” 

“ I don’t think I shall, very soon,” Agatha replied 
weakly. 

She felt no courage to keep up the conversation. 
The awful suspense had begun to tell upon her. She 
was waiting for the inevitable to happen and she 
was certain that Robert would come that morning. 

She followed her father out into the garden and 
sat down beside him. She yearned to speak to him, 
to tell him the terror that was consuming her and 
the new feeling that had come into her breast. It 
was so unusual for her to hide anything from him 
that she had not yet been able to adjust herself to 
the situation. 


283 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


As they sat under the magnolia tree a whistling 
sound came from above them. Mr. Windom started 
up from his chair and looked up to the sky. His 
hand trembled as he stood there. 

“ It has come at last,” he said hopelessly. “ They 
have begun to aim at the Fort now, and we are in 
the circle of their fire. We shall have to go to the 
cave at once.” Another shell rumbled nearer this 
time. The startling explosion sounded only a few 
yards away. 

Agatha felt that all sides were closing in upon 
her. Only one thing was left to her now to use the 
grief of her father to keep him from the cave. She 
was filled with shame as she spoke. 

“Don’t let us go to the cave yet, father. I have 
been there several times lately, and I found it so 
painful that I did not remain long. I can’t get 
over the idea that the boys may have been killed 
there.” 

The expression of her father’s face hurt her deeply. 
The idea that all truth, all sense of honour was pass- 
ing from her forever, made her burst into tears. 
The old man held her hand in his tenderly, but his 
gentle touch was like fire to the girl. 

284 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


The slamming of the front gate made her look up. 
Several soldiers had entered and were walking towards 
the house. One of them started towards the garden, 
having seen Agatha and Mr. Windom there. 

Robert Sentrill came up to them with his bright 
smile and sparkling eyes. Evidently Agatha’s atti- 
tude the evening before had not discouraged him. 
He showed no change ; he was the same good-natured 
fellow, only Agatha detected a slight glitter in his 
eyes, a cruel excitement which she well understood. 

Mr. Windom held out his hand to Robert cor- 
dially, as he approached them. Agatha forced 
herself to bow, a quiet 44 Good-morning ” falling 
from her lips. 

44 You are up this morning early, Robert,” Mr. 
Windom began. 44 1 hope you will have that shelling 
stopped which has begun to threaten us this morn- 
ing.” He smiled as he finished. 

44 1 only wish it were in my power, Mr. Windom. I 
have always considered any danger to you and 
Agatha as my own.” 

He paused and looked intently at Agatha. 

She knew the moment had now come. She looked 
around for Jeremiah and saw him down in the barn- 
285 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


yard busy with his morning work. He evidently 
did not attach any importance to Robert’s appear- 
ance. 

“ Mr. Windom,” Robert continued, “ I have a 
very disagreeable task to perform this morning. 
Two Federal spies have made their way through the 
lines, and we have not been able to find them so far. 
They have been traced from the intrenchments near 
the Fort to the gulley back of your house. But at 
a certain distance, the bloodstains disappear, and 
we are unable to find any further signs. We are 
certain they are hiding somewhere about this place, 
or near here. I must ask your permission to search 
the grounds.” 

Mr. Windom had listened in surprised silence. 

“ I am under the impression that they have prob- 
bly taken refuge in the cave.” 

As Robert finished he looked inquiringly towards 
Agatha. She returned his gaze coldly. 

“ In the cave,” Mr. Windom exclaimed, looking at 
his daughter. “Agatha has just told me of having 
been there yesterday. You know we are fixing it up 
in case we have to use it. You did not see anyone 
there, did you, Agatha ? ” 


286 


the heart of hope 

She shook her head. 

“ But were there any signs of men having been 
there ? ” Robert asked her. 

“None whatever,” she replied quietly. 

“ Probably you did not look around much, 
Agatha,” her father insisted. “ They may have hidden 
far back in the cave. You know it is very deep.” 

Agatha was forcing herself to be calm. 

“ Jeremiah and I went over the whole place yester- 
day. We did not see a thing disturbed. I am posi- 
tive no one could have been there.” 

Robert waited a moment when she had finished. 

“Have we your permission to search the place, 
Mr. Windom?” he asked. 

“ Certainly,” the old man answered. “ If there 
are any spies around, we want to get them away from 
us you may be sure. The sooner they are strung 
up the better we will be pleased. Eh, Agatha?” 

Agatha wondered how much longer she could 
stand it. 

Robert turned away and called the other soldiers 
who were standing near the house. 

“ You two stand here and await our return.” 

He stationed them near Mr. Windom and Agatha, 
287 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

and started off towards the orchard with the other 
two. Agatha rose suddenly and called to him. He 
came back to her quickly, his face beaming with 
excitement. 

“I have a lot of my personal things down there. 
I would like to get them out of the way before the 
men look around much.” 

She was trying to gain time, trying to plan some 
way to warn the men. She knew too well that the 
soldiers left behind had been instructed to watch her. 
Jeremiah was still currying the horse in the barn- 
yard. She had tried many times to make him see 
her, but he had never looked up. 

“ It would be ridiculous f or you to run any risk 
like that, Agatha,” said Mr. Windom. “The men 
might be in there now, and they might shoot you. 
Stay here by me until they have searched the place.” 

Her father held her back when she rose. He 
spoke with determination. 

Robert turned away with a quiet, satisfied smile. 
He felt that he held the door of the trap now. He 
raised his eyes as he turned away watching the 
whistling shell that sounded above them. Suddenly 
he threw his hands above his head. 


288 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“Run! for God’s sake, all of you. That shell 
is falling here.” 

He had not finished the words, when the deafening 
explosion came. Clouds of earth rose into the air, 
and fell about the garden in great heaps. The whole 
place shook for a moment. The trees shed a mass 
of leaves. The flowers fell from the plants, and one 
comer of the fence was blown yards away. 

Agatha had risen from her father’s side and stood 
amazed. The men who had started for the cave 
had disappeared from her view. They were buried 
in the large mound of earth before her. One man 
was struggling out of the mass and calling loudly 
for help. 

“Get a spade — axe — anything,” Robert called to 
the other soldiers. 

“ Here they are,” Agatha called, running towards 
the barnyard. She was at Jeremiah’s side before the 
men had caught up with her. 

“ To the cave, quick. Get them hidden.” 

“ Come right in here,” she said to the men, 
advancing. “I have sent the negro for the spade, 
but I think there is a shovel here.” 

She led the way into the barn and helped them 
289 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


find the tools. Then, returning to the mound of 
fresh earth, she carried a bucket of water with her. 

Robert had already dug the soldier out with a 
fence picket, and the injured man now lay prostrate 
on the ground. They threw the water into his face, 
and in a moment he gave several gasps and recovered 
consciousness. 

They carried him over to the tree and left him 
on the bench to recover. In a moment they had all 
quieted down again. 

Robert called the men to his side and started 
towards the cave once more. Jeremiah had returned 
with the spade and Agatha knew that everything 
was safe. The certainty made her feel that all her 
strength was leaving her. She sat down on the 
bench by the wounded man and waited. 

Her father was walking about the garden ex- 
citedly talking to Jeremiah and watching the shriek- 
ing shells as they flew above them. The aim of 
the battery that had ruined their garden seemed 
to be changed again. The Fort had evidently proved 
impregnable to their fire, and they had turned their 
attention back to the town. 

Jeremiah began to clear the garden as best he 
290 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


could, and Agatha waited in suspense for the return 
of the soldiers. It seemed to her that they would 
never come back. She looked constantly at the edge 
of the hill, yet no figures had begun to ascend. She 
got up and walked over to Jeremiah. He gave her 
one look and she was satisfied. 

A half hour dragged slowly by before the 
searching party returned. Robert wore a cha- 
grined expression upon his face. The light of excite- 
ment had died out of his eyes. He did not look at 
Agatha as he passed her, but went straight on to Mr. 
Windom. A few words passed between them which 
she could not hear, and Robert went into the house, 
followed by the men. A little later she saw them 
pass a window in her bedroom, and she knew they 
were searching the house. Her cheeks burned and 
she walked proudly from the garden and went into 
the house. The men were still upstairs, so she went 
out on the porch and waited for them to descend. 

Robert came out first and stood before her. He 
showed plainly the realisation of his mistake. His 
pleasant smile had gone and his face looked weak 
and insipid. He stood before the girl, his cap in 
his hand, his head bowed. 


291 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

“I apologise humbly,” he said. 46 It was jealousy 
that made me do it. It made me actually believe you 
knew where they were. I am just seeing my insult 
to you now. Forgive me.” 

Agatha gazed at him coldly. 

44 Won’t you try to forget it, Agatha? ” he pleaded 
again, but started when he saw her expression. Her 
face was distorted with an expression of fierce hatred, 
which ruined its beauty. 

He turned away hopelessly, realising that he had 
lost forever the love that he had once thought 
all his own. The men followed him out of the gate, 
and tramped on silently towards the city. 

About noon Jeremiah came around the house to 
where Agatha was still sitting. 

44 Kin I let dem out of de well now ? ” he whispered 
to her. 

She rose to her feet, startled. 44 Yes, of course. 
Have they been there all this time? Run, get them 
out at once. I don’t think we shall be disturbed any 
more.” 

There was a tone of conviction in her voice. 


292 


IX 


IN the besieged town people were beginning to lose 
hope. The patriotism that had buoyed them up was 
flagging. Death, other than that of the soldiers, 
had come among them. Fevers and smallpox were 
raging in their midst. The cisterns were becoming 
dry. Water could only be gotten from the river 
under the fierce fire of the gunboats. Provisions 
were giving out. Nothing was left now but the hope 
that Johnson’s army was coming to release them. 
Even this hope died out as the days gradually 
drifted into weeks. 

Agatha had not been in town since the day she had 
gone with her father. The dusty, glaring road, in 
front of the house, discouraged any idea of driving; 
besides the town held no attraction for her. It was 
difficult to find friends there now. Nearly every- 
one had forsaken their houses for caves. 

When Jeremiah went into the town in search of 
fresh food, he came back filled with strange stories 
of what the people were doing. He had told them of 
the market, usually so resplendent at this time of 
293 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


the year, now a dreary, empty place, with nothing 
but mule meat and rats for sale. He had dilated at 
length to Hester upon the long rows of rats strung 
up in the market, skinned and ready to eat. The 
old woman would not believe him until he had taken 
her there, and she had seen the little animals herself. 

He would sometimes bring back a small bunch of 
onions, the only vegetables he could find. 

The food was diminishing rapidly now, and Hester 
was at her wits’ end to get together a meal for the 
family. The coffee had given out long ago and 
there was just a little tea left. The flour that Mr. 
Windom had bought had turned out so bad that they 
could not use it. The only bread left them was the 
hoe cake which Hester took great pride in making to 
perfection. She and Agatha would plan for hours 
how they could make the same food into new dishes, 
so as to fool themselves into believing that it was 
something different. 

The vegetable garden had dried up entirely. The 
orchard had suffered from the drought, the peaches 
drying up on the branches. Everything was against 
them — even Nature seemed to be favouring the other 
side. 


29 * 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Through it all, Agatha had been happy. The 
long days were sweet to her, full of new hopes, a 
new object, a growing happiness in the knowledge 
that she loved and was loved. 

This was no trifling affection like the first had 
been. It was real, passionate, filling her life — the 
motive of every thought and action. No words of 
love had been spoken between them. It had not been 
necessary. Their eyes had said it for them. 

In the long twilight, when the golden lights on 
the hill turned to purple, she would go down to 
the cave and sit with them, reading to Nathan or 
repeating the tales Jeremiah had brought back from 
the town. 

Silas would pull Nathan out on the terrace, and 
make him comfortable on an old mattress, while 
Agatha would sit near him and turn the pages of 
his favourite books. He seemed most satisfied and 
happy when she read, especially if it were poetry. 
She would often read on until the light had faded 
away and left them surrounded in the night shadows. 

Sometimes Nathan would fall asleep, leaving her 
and Silas a few moments alone. At such times they 
would talk of the things that had interested them 
295 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


most, of the books they had read, of the places and 
things they wished most to see, the impersonal note 
always dominating their conversation. 

It seemed to be the effort of Silas to keep it thus. 
In the silent moments when they were sitting near 
each other, he often looked at her yearningly then 
got up quickly and walked away. 

Agatha did not understand. She did not know 
the thoughts that kept him back. 

One night, when the June moon had grown 
resplendent in the sky, Agatha went to the cave, and 
asked Silas to come and walk with her in the shadows 
of the trees. He had asked her often, but she had 
always been afraid of his being discovered. But this 
night the beautiful pale light had influenced her. 
The night sounds had spoken to her and she could not 
resist their call. 

She led him along the valley, and up through 
the wooded part of the hill, always looking about 
her carefully. The night was quiet. They passed 
quickly over the bright, dusty road, glistening in the 
moonlight, and went on into the protecting blackness 
of the beech wood. 

Agatha silently led the way towards her favourite 

296 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


spot, her secret bower. She knew instinctively that 
Silas would speak to her that night, and she wanted 
it to be in the place where she had always dreamed of 
that time. It would be more complete there — more 
real. 

Silas followed her until they came out on the brow 
of the hill. He stopped a moment in amazement. 
“ It is magnificent,” he exclaimed. 

Agatha sat down on the log seat, and after a little 
while Silas came and sat beside her. They remained 
silent a long time, looking out upon the wonderful 
scene before them. 

The river looked like shining silver in the white 
moonlight. All else about it was lost in the black 
depths of the night, only the broad sweep of the 
stream standing out alone. Incessantly, from the 
black mass floating on the silver, bright glowing disks 
sprung up in the sky, leaving a trail of fire in their 
path. Sometimes the bright balls would burst, and 
a million golden stars would softly fall down and 
disappear in the silent river. It was like a giant war 
of meteors. 

“ This is my confidant,” Agatha said softly. 66 It 
has been my heart companion as far back as I can 
297 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

remember. It never told my secrets. I could bare 
my soul to it with safety.” 

Silas smiled at her. The moonlight made her 
eyes seem larger, brighter, than he had ever seen 
them. Her pale face looked like some fragrant, 
delicate flower. 

“You are fortunate,” he answered quietly, “to 
have someone who understands your sacred thoughts 
and ideals. Is it that to you?” 

Agatha nodded. “ Yes, it is my sanctuary,” she 
said. 

Silas turned towards her. “ Do you know every- 
thing here is so different from what I have known, 
so much gentler, so much sweeter. Until this war 
came your life must have been like those long 
stretches of cotton fields that we came through on 
our way here, even, regular, smooth.” 

Agatha trembled a little as he spoke to her. 

“It is not my life alone. It is the South; our 
characteristics,” she answered. 

“ Still life here must be ideal. It is so calm and 
restful, without rush, or hurry. No one is pushing 
you. You are not crowded. There is a garden for 
everyone.” 


298 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


“And the plantations,” Agatha added, “I love 
them more than anything else. The long fields of 
cotton, stretching out as far as the eye can reach, 
with not even a ridge to mar the green line where 
it melts into the sky. I love to watch the different 
changes take place ; it is like watching a child grow. 
First the soil prepared, enriched, and ploughed; then 
the seed planted, and the little weak baby leaves 
coming above the ground. Soon they are large and 
strong and beautiful in the fulness of their strength. 
But soon there are white specks showing on the bril- 
liant green, and almost before you can realise it, 
the whole field is white, as if with age. Then come 
the dried-up brown stalks like old withered men, and 
they have to be chopped down to make way for the 
new crop. Their work is done and they must be put 
out of the way for the new ones. It is just like our 
life, isn’t it?” 

He remained still a long time after Agatha finished 
speaking. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked. 

“ I was thinking of the one memory that has 
remained to me, out of my childhood. This scene 
before me, and your voice as you sit there talking, 
299 


THE 


HEART 


OF HOPE 


brings it all up to me so vividly. There seems to 
be something familiar about the place to bring it 
back so forcibly.” 

44 Tell me about it,” Agatha said softly. 

44 I must have been a very little boy then.” Silas 
shut his eyes and leaned back musingly, as the mem- 
ory filled his mind. 44 And she, my little sweetheart, 
must have been about four years old. I can see her 
just as plainly now as if it were only yesterday. She 
wore a little white dress and pink sash, and her black 
hair hung in two long plaits down her back, each tied 
with a pink ribbon. We were sitting on the steps of a 
big house, very much like yours, for I remember great 
white columns that looked so tall, to me, and we 
were weaving bracelets and necklaces out of clover 
blossoms. I made her a ring, using one of the blos- 
soms for the diamond, and put it on her finger. Then 
I kissed her, and we promised always to love each 
other and marry like other folks when we were 
grown.” 

He stopped short and passed his hand across his 
brow, as if trying to remember. 

44 And have you never seen her since, nor heard 
of her? ” 


300 


D 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

Silas shook his head sorrowfully. 

“ Never. It must have been in some other life. 
There could have been no such experience in my child- 
hood I am sure.” 

There was a deep pathos in his voice. 

“ Couldn’t your father and mother remember where 
it was?” Agatha asked. 

“ I never had any,” Silas answered. “ I’ve never 
had anyone that I could lean upon, or claim any- 
thing from except Nathan, and he has relied upon 
me as a father, himself. I have had to fight his 
battles and my own. But it has been the one bright 
spot in my life — his love and trust in me.” 

“And have you never had a sister, any woman to 
take a place in your life?” 

“ None, except the old woman who raised us and 
sent us to school. She never meant much in our 
lives, nor we in hers. She was kind and did her 
part, but there was no sympathy between us. She 
said she was doing her duty by us, and that her hus- 
band at his death had made her swear to look after 
us until we were grown. We could never find out our 
parentage. All she knew was that her husband had 
brought us back with him from a long trip on the 
301 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

river, and told her to take care of us as best she 
could.” 

u And did she not even know your name ? ” 

“I suppose not. When she died she left us two 
rings with initials cut in them, which she said we 
wore when we came to her. But they could help us 
to find out nothing. We gave up hope years ago.” 

Agatha’s hand lay on the log beside him, and as 
he finished, he put his own firmly upon it and raised 
it to his lips. 

“ You asked me if any woman had come into my 
life, and I said no, but that was before I met you 
that morning beside your horse. When I saw you 
then I knew I had seen you before. It was in my 
dreams, for you were the ideal that had led me on 
and on through all those lonely years. I knew it 
was you at once.” 

He still held her hand in his warm clasp. It 
thrilled her and made her tremble in spite of her 
efforts to be calm. 

46 And when you left me that night and went across 
the valley back into your town, I felt that every- 
thing was slipping away from me, that the lamp 
which had burned for a few hours had gone out 
302 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


forever. Do you remember — you stood on the para- 
pet a moment while a shot was fired at you. Then 
you disappeared from my view on the other side. 
I stood there frozen for a moment — I thought you 
had been shot; and when I again realised what I 
was doing, I was flying back to our camp like a 
wild man.” 

He waited a moment as a shell exploded near them, 
then as the night became quiet he continued. 

“When we lost the battle I was in despair. It 
was my only chance. I felt that I must see you 
again, so I went to the camp and volunteered as 
a spy. You don’t blame me now, do you?” 

He stopped speaking and waited for her answer. 
She did not speak and he turned away sadly, releas- 
ing her hand. “ I know I have no right to force 
my love upon you after all you have done for me. 
But I cannot help it, Agatha. I love you, I love 
you — I love you.” 

She leaned a little towards him as he spoke. He 
read the answer in her eyes. 

A man’s footstep sounded near them. Agatha 
turned and saw a soldier standing a little distance 
away looking down over the river. He had not 
303 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


seen them yet, and she moved a little closer to Silas 
to hide him from the man’s sight. 

The soldier looked up at her and started. 

“Miss Windom!” he exclaimed. “What are you 
doing here all alone ? ” 

Agatha recognised him as one of the men sta- 
tioned at the Fort. 

“I am not alone. Capt. Sentrill is here with 
me.” 

The man touched his cap in salute. 

“We are expecting a very exciting time to-night 
on the river. We have had information from spies 
that the Federals are going to run some boats of 
provisions by the Fort. We are on the lookout for 
them.” He turned and left them. 

“ You had better go back home at once,” Silas 
suggested to Agatha. “Let me stay here, and see 
the outcome of this.” 

Agatha looked at him reproachfully. 

“Let you stay here and run the risk of being 
detected by the men. Never. Besides, I want to 
stay and see the boats myself.” 

At that moment a terrific fire opened up from the 
Fort on the hill near to them. They both started 
304 


HOPE 


THE HEART OF 

from their seats and peered down into the darkness 
below. 

Far up the river, towards the bend around the 
point, a long, dark object was drifting in the course 
of the stream. It came steadily down in front of the 
hill, directly within the fire of the forts. There was 
no light upon the dark mass that floated along so 
calmly. It did not return any of the downpour which 
the forts on the hill poured upon it. The mortars 
on the gunboats shifted their aim from the town 
to the fort on the hill, and in a few moments the 
whole sloping ridge was a mass of exploding shells. 

<fi You must go back,” Silas insisted to Agatha, 
as the danger became greater. “ It is too dangerous 
for you to stay here.” 

She threw back her head and laughed a happy, 
careless laugh. 

“I am not afraid, Silas. We can see the direction 
of the shells by their bright light, and avoid them.” 

She stood close to him, and he put his arm around 
her, while they looked down upon the wild scene. 

The long, black object on the river had now reached 
a point directly in front of them. A large, wooden 
building, on the river front of the town, had been 
305 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


set on fire to light up the scene, and show what it 
was that was running the blockade. By its penetrat- 
ing light the whole river was illuminated with a vivid 
glow. Every tree along the banks stood out per- 
fectly. Even the leaves were easily distinguished in 
the strong light, and the dark mass on the river 
suddenly developed into a long line of barges, drawn 
by a single unarmoured boat in front. The low, 
flat crafts were piled high with provisions. Bales of 
hay and corn, salt meat, barrels of flour — all shone 
distinctly in the light of the bright blaze. The fire 
of the forts continued to play furiously about the 
barges. 

Where the shells exploded in the river, magnificent 
columns of water spouted high into the air. 

The roar became deafening. Still the harmless- 
looking crafts floated peacefully down towards the 
town. 

A wild yell of joy came from the crowds of people 
congregated along the bank. They had seen a little 
spark settle on the barge of hay. A small line of 
fire ran from it quickly, and in another moment, 
the whole line of boats was blazing high into the 
skies. 


306 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

The forts stopped their firing. Their work had 
been done. But the mortars from across the river 
seemed to have gone wild in the anger of their defeat, 
and hurled a rain of fire upon the town with more 
force than ever. 

Great clouds of smoke rose from the burning 
boats, and shut out the scene completely. The burn- 
ing meat and corn filled the atmosphere with a stifling 
odour. 

Agatha turned away, and put her hands to her 
face. 

“That is war,” she said, a tremor in her voice. 
Turning away from the scene of destruction, they 
walked slowly back to the cave. 


307 




BOOK SIX 



Recognition 




I 


“AGATHA, you are a very brave girl,” Mr. Windom 
said, a few days later, as they sat together in the 
withered garden. “ You keep up your spirit won- 
derfully, and look as fresh as if nothing in the world 
were troubling you. I really believe if it were not 
for you, I should not have been able to stand this 
awful time. You buoy me up always with your 
hopeful face.” 

Agatha smiled at him radiantly. She was happy. 
Every discomfort which they had undergone had 
passed over her happy spirit, scarcely touching her. 
Even the dry, parched flowers held a beauty for her. 
All life was a continued song of love. But one thing 
saddened her — the knowledge that Nathan was not 
improving as rapidly as they had hoped. His wound 
pained him still, and it seemed impossible to hasten 
its healing. Silas dressed it each day, with Agatha’s 
help now, but they looked in vain for the mutilated 
flesh to heal. 


311 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

He had become fretful and feverish, in the last 
week, an entirely new phase in his case. 

Previously he had been only too glad to follow 
out all of their suggestions, and had rested peace- 
fully under Silas’ watchful eye, but the damp air of 
the cave and the confined life was telling upon him. 

He had lost his bright colour; a sallow look had 
taken its place. His eyes had sunk deep under his 
brows, giving him a wistful look. Silas saw the signs 
of failing health, and the reflection of it showed in 
the misery of his face. 

Agatha brought the most delicate food she could 
obtain, to nourish him and make him stronger. The 
hot sun made it impossible to bring him out of the 
cave until evening. Then he would remain there all 
night, Silas watching wakefully beside him. 

Silas and Agatha watched the change come over 
Nathan without speaking of it. It pained the girl 
deeply to have Silas look at her with his eyes so full 
of pleading for the help for which he would not ask. 
Her love made her realise the suffering he was under- 
going; her keen insight showed her the fatigue and 
anxiety that was telling on him, and threatening to 
break down the indomitable will. 


312 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


As the days passed, she felt that the time had come 
for something desperate to be done. And, con- 
stantly, as this knowledge grew upon her, she realised 
the necessity of telling her father. She lay awake at 
night planning how to approach him. She would 
tell him that for her sake he must help them, 
that it was for her love, her happiness, that she 
pleaded. 

But how to approach him, how to lead up to the 
subject, so that he would hear all — let her finish — 
was what worried her most. She feared that he 
would not understand. 

Several days passed and still she had not spoken. 
She was hoping against a certainty. 

Finally she made her decision. 

Her father had gone to the Fort one afternoon to 
get the latest information — the same old rumours 
of false hope. 

She was waiting for the supper hour to come, to 
speak to him, and the uncertainty kept her nervous 
and restless. She went out to the garden and strolled 
about among the parched flowers. They gave her 
no quiet now, the gorgeous sunset sent no thrill to 
her bosom. She went straight back into the house 
313 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


in an aimless way ; opened the door which led into the 
drawing-room. The large room, which ran the 
length of the house, was dark and gloomy. The 
musty smell of a long unused place came to her. 

A long line of family portraits hung on the walls, 
stretching from one end of the room to the other. 
The staring eyes of the portraits made them seem 
like real persons. She imagined the gilt frames were 
windows, and all those queer, uncanny people were 
peering through them at her. At the far end of the 
room a large painting covered the whole side of the 
wall. It represented a family group, several genera- 
tions past, and being painted in rich Vandyke browns, 
had the appearance of reality more than any of the 
others. 

The principal figure, a man, was sitting at a large, 
massively carved table, holding a child on his knee. 
On the other side of the table was a tall, stately 
woman, dressed in a ruby-coloured gown, which 
caught the glow from the huge stone fireplace and 
reflected it. It was a home scene — the quiet happi- 
ness making itself felt down a century. 

Agatha stood before the picture a long time. Then 
she turned and looked back at the others, but they 
314 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

did not interest her like this one. It held her with 
a fascination which she could not cast off. 

The man in the picture seemed staring at her with 
steady, calm, black eyes. She stood before him, 
returning the look, and an expression of understand- 
ing gradually came to her. She opened her lips in 
a startled exclamation as the strange familiarity of 
Silas’ face came back to her. She knew now where 
she had seen it before. It was the face of the man 
in the picture — the face of her great-grandfather — 
Edward Tillman Windom. 

She left the room slowly, the influence of the 
picture still upon her. Closing the door tightly after 
her she walked out of the house down towards the 
cave. 

The place seemed utterly deserted. No one was 
on the terrace and all was still, except for a moan- 
ing which came from inside the cave. She entered 
hurriedly and went to the side of Nathan’s bed. He 
was tossing restlessly and muttering in delirium, a 
glassy stare in his eyes. 

Silas gave Agatha a look of despair as she entered, 
and then turned back to Nathan. 

“ The wound has broken open again. I cannot 
315 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


stop the bleeding. He will die if we don’t have a 
doctor. There is no use in putting it off any longer. 
If you will not go for one, I will.” 

Silas’ voice sounded dull and hollow in the dark 
cave. Agatha put her hand on his shoulder and 
leaned over, looking at Nathan, who returned her 
look wildly. 

“ Silas, look at her. She is just like you. I can’t 
tell you apart. Which is you, Silas? Am I seeing 
double? ” 

He shut his eyes a moment to keep out the vision. 
Then, opening them again, a gurgling laugh escaped 
him. “ Isn’t it funny, Silas, that she should be so 
much like you? I never noticed it before.” 

His uncontrolled laughter rang out through the 
cave, reverberating in its black depths. 

Agatha placed her cool hand on Nathan’s, trying 
to calm him. 

“ Do not talk,” she said gently. “ I am going to 
stay here with you until you feel better.” 

She stroked his hand soothingly, and he lay quiet 
for a little while. Suddenly his eyes fell on her hand, 
where the large ring glistened. He looked at it dully 
and then sat up in bed. 


316 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ Silas,” he said in a low whisper, “ she has stolen 
my ring. Don’t you see it there, on her finger? 
Don’t let her take it away, will you? ” 

Agatha looked inquiringly towards Silas. 

“ What does he mean ? ” she gasped. 

Silas lowered Nathan slowly back on the couch, 
before answering. 

“We have two rings just like yours. You know I 
told you about them the other night. He thinks the 
one you have is his.” 

Agatha stood as if turned to stone. Her heart 
seemed to have stopped beating. 

“ You said they found them on you when you were 
brought to the woman who raised you ? ” 

“ Yes, but why are you so excited about it? ” Silas 
answered. He kept his arm on Nathan, holding him 
down in the bed, while the delirious man still begged 
him not to let Agatha take away his ring. 

“ May I see the rings ? Have you them with 
you?” 

Agatha began to tremble violently. 

Silas unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, and run- 
ning his hand in, drew out a little chamois bag, which 
hung by a cord around his neck. The chamois looked 
317 


THE HEART OF HOPE 


old and soiled, and had evidently been in his posses- 
sion a long time. He took his knife and cut open 
one side of the bag, taking out two rings identically 
like the one on Agatha’s finger. 

She took them from him quickly, and ran to the 
entrance of the cave into the light. Holding the 
rings up she examined them closely. On one was 
cut deep in the stone the initials 44 E. T. W.” and on 
the other 46 J. T. W.” 

She ran back quickly to Silas. He was still won- 
dering at her excitement. 

44 Which is yours ? ” she asked. Her voice came in 
low, uncertain tones. 

44 1 never knew. There was no record kept.” 

Agatha sank down on a chair in a bewilderment 
of hope and fear. 

44 My God, if I had only known it before.” 

Her gaze fastened upon Nathan with a look of 
despair. 

44 What is it, Agatha? Tell me. What is the 
trouble? ” 

Silas left Nathan's side* and stood before her. 

*'She put her hands up to her face in a dazed way. 
4r I don’t know yet. I think I am going mad.” 

318 



‘ THEN THE CANDLE SLIPPED FROM HER HAND, AND SHE 
FELL TO THE FLOOR ” 








I 






























THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Silas stood looking at her helplessly as she rose, 
and began walking nervously about. Nathan called 
to him again, and he went back and sat down by him. 
Presently Agatha came and stood beside them. 

44 I am going for a doctor now,” she said, clasping 
her hands tightly. 

Silas walked to the entrance of the cave beside her, 
and as she started to leave he threw his arms around 
her and drew her close to him, kissing her again and 
again. 

44 Thank you, Agatha. It will save his life.” 

She struggled out of his arms with an expression 
of horror on her face, and ran from him like a mad 
woman. He stared after her in the dim twilight, 
wonder and amazement on his face. 

Agatha fled up the hill and into the house. She 
called loudly for her father, rushing from one room 
to the other. There was no answer to her wild cries. 
The empty house only echoed through its deserted 
rooms. 

A candle was burning on the dining-room table, 
and Agatha took it up, hurriedly groping her way 
through the hall to the drawing-room door. As she 
entered, the candle light cast queer fantastic rays 
319 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


upon the long line of portraits. She felt that they 
were a jury sitting in judgment upon her, their black, 
steady eyes looking searchingly into her soul. She 
groped her way down the long, slippery floor, to the 
large painting at the end of the room and holding the 
candle high above her head, looked at the man’s face, 
steadily. The excitement passed from her. She 
stood riveted to the spot. 

Then the candle slipped from her hand, and she 
fell to the floor. No tears came to relieve her. She 
lay there as if dead with a continual murmur upon 
her lips: 

“ God — don’t let it be true ! I love him — I love 
him.” 


320 


II 


MR. WINDOM had left the house that afternoon, 
and had gone to the Fort. Many rumours had come 
to him lately of what was going on in the town. 
Jeremiah’s description of the suffering and lack of 
food had made him feel that the end of the siege 
must be very near. It was almost with relief that 
he realised this, for their lives had been in danger for 
many months from the fleet of gunboats that had 
settled across the river, seemingly there forever. The 
shelling had gradually increased with the many boats 
that were added to the fleet almost daily. 

And now that the town was entirely surrounded, all 
communication with the outside world cut off, the fire 
from the fleet was re-inf orced by the sharp-shooting 
and bombs of the besieging army. 

Mr. Windom knew the hopes of the town could not 
be kept up much longer. J ohnson’s army, upon which 
they had relied so absolutely for salvation, evidently 
could not come to their relief. They were left with 
this fact staring them in the face. 

321 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


There were rumours too of a conference between 
Grant and Pemberton, yet nothing definite had been 
given to the people. Expectancy filled the air. 

The old man climbed up the embankment, and went 
down inside of the Fort. The four earthen walls 
hemmed in and protected a small square of ground, 
almost filled by a large tent and boxes of ammunition. 
An old stove and cooking utensils were in one corner, 
and in the centre, waving proudly in the air, was the 
Confederate flag. 

Some men were lying in the shadow of the tent 
sleeping ; others were crouching beside the huge guns 
mounted upon each side of the Fort, quietly observing 
all that was going on across the valley. One of the 
men started up from behind the cannon when he saw 
Mr. Windom and walked slowly along the parapet 
towards him. 

His appearance was a signal for the enemy’s fire, 
and a thick shower of bullets fell about him. One 
passed through his ragged grey shirt, leaving a 
clear-cut hole in its path. 

“ Damn you, Yank,” he said, turning and shaking 
his fist at the opposite hill. “ Try again if you want 
to.” He came slowly down to where Mr. Windom 
322 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

stood, and pulling two stools out of the tent they sat 
down. 

44 They try mighty hard to do something over 
there,” the soldier nodded indifferently across the 
valley. 44 You might get hurt, Mr. Windom. What 
brought you out, anyhow ? ” 

Several of the other soldiers came up and gathered 
about them. They had become very fond of the old 
man during the long suspense. He had not for- 
gotten them, and each day brought something 
refreshing to them from his home. 

44 I came to find out the news, boys. They tell me 
there is something going on in the town that we do 
not know about. What is it ? ” He looked up at 
them inquiringly. 

44 I wish to God they would do something,” one 
of the men answered. 44 We are all starving to death 
with nothing in sight to relieve us. I can’t see the 
use of keeping us suffering here for no reason.” 

The unbroken silence showed that the others shared 
his views. 

44 There was a report in the town yesterday,” the 
man continued, 44 that Pemberton had sent to Grant’s 
camp to ask for an interview.” 

. 323 


THE 


HEART 


OF HOPE 


“ Yes, and he went himself,” another answered. <£ I 
talked with the men who saw him come out of the 
tent with Grant. They said he looked awful gloomy 
but that Grant looked more satisfied than ever. I 
heard later that Pemberton had offered to surrender 
on his own terms, and that Grant had said that he 
would accept nothing but unconditional surrender.” 

“ It is time Pemberton did something,” the first one 
said. 

“ Haven’t we been lying here for forty-one 
days, doing nothing but make ourselves targets for 
the Yankee sharp-shooters. Haven’t the trenches 
from here to miles below the town been filled with 
soldiers dying from wounds and fever, and those that 
are not sick dying from hunger. I tell you, it’s 
time to do something. I’m tired of all this show with 
nothing to back it. If Pemberton had gone about in 
the trenches, and seen some of our suffering, he would 
not have put it off so long. To-morrow is the Fourth 
of July, and those devils over there have been saying 
all along they were going to beat us that day. Right 
down there ” — he stood on the embankment, and 
pointed towards a narrow part of the valley where 
the intrenchments were within calling distance — “ a 
32 4 


T H E HEART OF HOPE 

fellow hollered over to me yesterday to look out for 
the Fourth. He said it was the birthday of the 
Union and they were going to celebrate it.” 

The other men listened, silently assenting to all 
the fellow had said. Their sun-burned faces did not 
hide the ravages of hunger and disease, which were 
slowly diminishing their strength. There was pat- 
riotism still in their breasts, but it had been dulled. 
Suffering had taken the sting out of defeat. 

Mr. Windom heard their remarks with surprise. 
His quiet, close home life had kept a great many of 
the hardships from his observation. 

He did not know that the soldiers had been almost 
driven to wish defeat. The outcome opened up 
before him in a vast scene of disorder and outrage. 

If New Orleans had been insulted when it suc- 
cumbed without a fight, what would Grant’s army do 
to the little town on the hills that had been hold- 
ing out against him for forty-one days. Painful 
thoughts rushed over him as he heard the men speak- 
ing, and a great fear for Agatha’s safety sprang up 
in his heart. He knew that his home would not 
escape the onslaught. 

“Then you think we are going to surrender?” he 
325 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


said, lifting up his head and looking from one face 
to the other. There was no hope in any of them. 
He turned away silently, and went back towards his 
home. 

The setting sun was lighting up the tall, white 
columns of the house and the whole place looked 
handsome and dignified. 

Mr. Windom gazed at it affectionately. Tears 
dimmed his sight as he stood before the house that had 
sheltered him so long. Many memories rushed back 
to him; the wild days of the early settlers, the trials 
and hardships of maintaining a home in the wilder- 
ness; the brave spirit, and the encouragement of his 
beautiful wife; the loss of their son, which had killed 
her, and had broken his own spirit. Agatha and 
their home were all that remained to him. Would he 
live to see them taken from him also? 


326 


Ill 


HE went up the long walk to the house, and 
stopped a moment in the hall to close the drawing- 
room door. He knew that the room had not been 
used for months and the open door attracted his at- 
tention. As he paused with his hand on the knob, a 
murmur came from the darkness and a faint glim- 
mer of white showed on the floor at the far end of 
the room. “ Agatha, is it you ? ” he exclaimed, 
when he had recognised her. “ My child, what is 
it? Why are you here? ” His voice trembled with 
alarm. 

Agatha was still in the half conscious condition in 
which she had fallen to the floor. A murmur of 
words still came continually from her lips. Mr. 
Windom raised her in his arms, and carried her to 
the long sofa, which filled the space beneath the 
painting. He lighted a candle on the marble mantel- 
piece, and left the room to get her some water. When 
he returned she had calmed a little and recognised 
327 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

him. She rose quickly from her reclining position, 
and staggered towards him. 

“ Go to the cave quick, father. There are two 
men there. They have on rings like mine — this one. 
The initials of Edward and Jordan are cut in the 
stones.” 

She spoke in broken sentences, the thoughts com- 
ing from her lips without sequence. 

Her father grasped her arms and held her firmly 
before him. 

“ What are you talking about, Agatha ? Are you 
mad? Wake up, child.” 

He almost shook her in his excitement. 

“ I thought I was mad, too, father, but it is true. 
One of them looks exactly like the picture, there. 
The one of Edward Tillman Windom.” 

She looked towards the huge canvas. 

Her father took the candle, and walked unsteadily 
close up to the picture. 

“ And the other one, Agatha? ” He turned to 
her suddenly, a fierce light in his eyes. 

“ He is fairer — his hair is light — his eyes are blue. 
But the two men are very much alike.” 

The candle shook in the old man’s trembling hand. 
328 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

Agatha shuddered as she looked at him. A great 
fear overcame her. 

“ That is Jordan, Agatha. Do you hear me? The 
fair one is Jordan.” 

“ And the dark one, father, who is he? ” 

Her voice thrilled with the suspense. 

“ Your cousin, Edward.” 

She swayed towards him and he caught her in his 
arms. 

“ Go to them quick, father. Jordan is dying. I 
— I am going into town for a doctor. Go, father, 
go now” 


32 9 


IV 


AGATHA ran swiftly down to the barn. 

“ Come with me quick, J eremiah. I must go into 
town for a doctor at once. He is dying, — down 
there in the cave. Hurry as fast as you can. Bring 
the buggy to the gate. I will be there, waiting.” 

In a moment she was back to the kitchen, giving 
Hester instructions about going to the cave. She 
did not wait to explain away the negro’s amazement. 

“ My father is there,” she said. “ Help them all 
you can. One of the men is dying. I will be back 
as soon as I can find a doctor.” 

She rushed back to the barn, and jumped into the 
buggy, followed quickly by the old negro. Picking 
up the whip, she lashed the horse into his utmost 
speed. In a moment they were flying swiftly 
through the heavy dust of the road ; the gritty, pow- 
dered earth filling their eyes and almost blinding 
them. 

The rain of fire was falling in thick sheets as the 
380 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


batteries from the rear of the town hurled the shells 
upon them. The gunboats kept up a steady fire, 
until the entire town was brilliantly illuminated. The 
streets were deserted; the houses looked dismantled 
and forgotten. Many of them had fallen in; others 
had their porches and roofs torn off, and the fences 
had been blown from the lawns, blocking the street. 

Agatha was forced to drive out of her way to pass 
a wrecked house that had been blown entirely over 
on its side and lay directly across the street. Ruin 
was everywhere. 

The farther she drove into the town, the more evi- 
dent became the desolation and the despair of the 
people. The streets were ghostly in their deserted 
lengths. 

In her extremity she thought of the nun who had 
talked with her a month before. She drove directly 
to the hospital, wondering if the woman were still 
there, and would help her. 

Sounds of moaning came to her ears before she 
had gotten out of the buggy. The entire yard was 
filled with wounded and dying soldiers. Death was 
among them, beside them, and pouring down upon 
them from the skies. There was no escape for them 
331 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


anywhere. Their shrieks were piercing when the 
explosions startled them out of their delirium. 

Agatha went into the hall and looked about for 
the nun. A man came towards her carrying a bun- 
dle of bandages. 

“ What do you want here ? ” he asked, in amaze- 
ment. 

“ I am looking for a physician. Where can I find 
one? ” 

“ There are none here. Look in the cave over 
there, and you will find them.” 

He pointed to the sloping ground, a block away, 
which formed a knoll near the street. 

“ Sister Mary — where is she ? 99 Agatha asked. 

“A shell ” 

She did not wait to hear the rest. She ran down 
the walk to the buggy, and drove down the street to 
the small hill — stopping in front of a cave. A group 
of men were standing near the opening, watching 
intently the fierce bombs and talking to the other 
men inside the cave. Agatha got out, and ap- 
proached them. 

“ They told me at the hospital that I would find a 
physician here. Will you please direct me to him?” 

332 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

The men stared at her curiously. One of them 
stepped forward and spoke to her. 

“ I believe it is Miss Windom. Can I do anything 
for you? ” He came up near to her. 

“ Yes. I am in search of a doctor to go out home 
with me. A man has been wounded on our place, 
and we must get help f or him at once. They told me 
I would find a doctor here.” 

The man looked about him in an embarrassed 
way. “ I’ll see if I can get him to go with you. 
Just wait a moment.” 

He left her and disappeared in the opening of the 
cave. Agatha turned towards the buggy again to 
see if Jeremiah were safe. His shining eyes were 
peering out towards her through the red light. 

In a few moments the man returned, shaking his 
head. 

“ Sorry, Miss, but he is asleep for the first time in 
several days and cannot be disturbed.” 

“ Can’t I see him, myself? Oh, what shall I do? ” 
cried Agatha. 

She made a step towards the opening. 

“ Don’t go, Miss Windom,” the man said. “ It 
will do no good.” 


333 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ I must,” she repeated in a determined voice, and 
passed by him. 

She entered the low opening, and went into the 
cave. It was a damp, ill-smelling place, with smok- 
ing lanterns hung about on the walls. Several men 
lay about in the sleep of utter exhaustion. Some of 
them had had to resort to stimulants to keep up their 
strength, and the heavy odour of whiskey was in the 
air. Agatha saw that there was no hope and made 
a movement to retreat. As she did so a deafening 
noise came from the outside. The walls of the cave 
trembled, and clods of earth fell down from the ceil- 
ing. The lanterns went out, leaving the whole place 
in utter darkness. Agatha groped her way to the 
opening and rushed out, but none of the tired men 
stirred. 

She did not recognise the place where she had stood 
a few moments before. The nearby ground and 
street had been thrown up into great heaps of earth. 
A huge tree had fallen across the spot where she had 
left Jeremiah in the buggy. All before her was a 
mass of debris. “ It was an eighty-pound Parrott,” 
she heard one of the men say, as he rushed forward 
to see what wreckage was done. They were too late. 

334 > 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


Jeremiah and the horse lay covered in the mass to 
one side of the street, both dead. A man held Aga- 
tha back as she started forward. “ Don’t go there. 
It is better for you not to see it.” 

“ Is he dead? ” Agatha gasped. 

The man nodded. 

An overpowering despair took possession of her. 
The whole world seemed to have turned against her. 
All the bright days of her childhood came back to 
her in that moment, all the little incidents in which 
Jeremiah had taken part back to the time when he 
had carried her in his arms as a little girl, to the 
bluff overlooking the river to see the race between 
the large steamboats. The huge, puffing monsters, 
the trail of red smoke they left behind them, and the 
loud blowing of their whistles had frightened her, 
and she had turned and hid her face on his breast. 
From that day he had been her protector. Then 
she recalled her first ball, when she had put on a 
hoop-skirt for the first time — how he had laughed 
when she had difficulty in getting into the carriage. 
Numbers of little incidents crowded her brain as she 
stood there in the group of terrified people. 

“ May I take you to some of your friends? ” The 
335 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


man’s voice startled her into a realisation of her sur- 
roundings. The great need of her dying brother 
came to her recollection. She stood irresolute a mo- 
ment, then determined not to give up. 

“ Where shall I find another physician ? ” she 
asked. 

u I saw Dr. Williams going to the officers’ quar- 
ters at Sky Parlour about an hour ago,” said the 
man. “ You might try there. May I help you find 
him? ” 

His kind tones encouraged her and grasping his 
arm she went with him down the street. 

On the top of a high hill which rose abruptly from 
the street was a low, one-story house. Being a good 
place for observation, it had been turned into offi- 
cers’ quarters, and a large telescope was placed there, 
which afforded an extensive view of the whole sweep 
of the river. As Agatha approached, a band in 
front of the house was playing some gay music. 
Nothing but death about her — the voices of the 
dying and suffering still fresh in her ears, and yet 
people were gay. It struck her as incongruous. 

Officers were strolling about the house, in fine uni- 
forms, girls leaning upon their arms and chatting 
336 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


merrily. It was the only note of gaiety in the whole 
scene of desolation. 

“ I will wait here,” Agatha said, stopping on the 
opposite side of the street in front of a church. 
“ You go and find the doctor for me. Tell him it 
will mean a great deal to him, and don’t let him re- 
fuse to come.” 

The sound of her voice was beseeching. 

The man left her and went up to the house. She 
watched him mingle with the crowd, and then sat down 
on the church steps. The murmur of voices came to 
her from the inside of the church. She remembered 
now that Jeremiah had told her of the many families 
who had left their homes and sought the protection 
of the strong, brick church. They thought the 
sacred place offered them a certain protection. 

She sat there a long time, waiting for the man to 
return and bring her some message of encourage- 
ment. The swiftly falling objects were raining about 
her still, some burying themselves in the earth, and 
disappearing without a sound. She looked wonder- 
ingly at the officers’ quarters, amazed that the range 
of the shells left it entirely free from danger. All 
the fear of harm to herself from them had gone 
337 


HEART 


O F 


THE 


HOPE 


from her now, and the interest of the scene about her 
did not touch her. She sat waiting in a quiet, numb 
way. 

Finally the man came out of the building and 
walked towards her. He was alone. She got up, and 
ran anxiously towards him. 

“ He has gone out to the fort on the hill near your 
house. You will find him there.” 

Agatha left the man with a murmur of thanks, 
and hurried down the street, without looking behind 
her, till the lights from the gay house were lost in 
the darkness. The thought of Nathan’s condition 
urged her on. She fled down the long street which 
led towards the bridge, until the loss of breath stopped 
her, and she leaned against a fence panting. The 
blood was surging madly in her head, and her pulses 
were throbbing. 

She rested a few moments, and gradually the 
terror left her — her pulses calmed, and she raised her 
head and looked about. A sudden stillness had come 
over everything. The fierce, red objects had disap- 
peared from the skies. The calm of death seemed 
to be wrapping itself about all nature. 

She was left standing in total darkness except for 
S3 8 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


the pale moon rising over the distant hills. Amaze- 
ment and wonder came over her at the sudden quiet. 

She started down the hill, crossed the bridge, and 
began the ascent of the long, dug-out road. 

Her strength was fast failing her. 

Far off rose the house, shining dimly in the moon- 
light. Below her in the valley was the vast city of 
tents, and over all, the strange, new quiet. It was 
penetrating — intense. She put out her hand, as if 
to touch it. It was so insistent that it was tangible. 
The light trill of a bird sounded in a far-off tree. It 
awoke strange sensations in Agatha. It brought 
back the happy weeks that had just passed. The 
passion of her love swept over her again and she 
made a movement to rise. The horror of the belief 
that he was her brother had left its influence upon 
her. She could not free herself from it; the hor- 
rible uncertainty; the mad horror which had over- 
taken her at the first realisation. She almost began 
to doubt again. What if her father had not remem- 
bered distinctly. 

She rose to her feet and ran rapidly along the 
road. When she reached the gate, Hester and a 
soldier were coming toward the house from the Fort. 

339 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

The man carried a small black case in his hand. “ I 
am the surgeon from the Fort,” he said when he had 
reached Agatha. “ This woman came for me. She 
says there is a man here wounded and that you 
wanted my services.” They passed in through the 
gate. 

“ What does all this quiet mean, Doctor? ” Agatha 
asked. 

“ It means surrender 

“ When?” 

“ To-morrow morning.” 


340 


y 


HESTER led the surgeon down the hill towards the 
cave, and Agatha went into the house. A single 
candle burned on the dining-room table, shedding a 
fantastic, gloomy glow about the empty room. 

Agatha hesitated a moment. An irresistible im- 
pulse was upon her to go back into the room with 
the long line of portraits and gaze at the large 
painting again. The thought that her father might 
not have distinguished between the men had re- 
mained with her. 

She snatched the candle quickly and went into 
the drawing-room. The resemblance grew upon her 
as she looked at the painting. She noticed the same 
lines at the corner of the mouth that Silas had ; and 
the nose which came from the forehead in a straight 
line. The hair waved back from the forehead in the 
same broad sweep. Even the figure of the man was 
identical with its clean-cut limbs and spare body. 

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Agatha 
turned around. There in the doorway stood Silas, 
peering into the dark room. The dim light shone 
341 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


only on his face, leaving the rest of his figure entirely 
unseen. He seemed an unreal being. 

Agatha stood spell-bound, watching him. It 
seemed to her that the many generations between 
them had slipped away and the two men — the one 
man — stood on either side of her. 

“ Come here.” Her voice came in an awed whis- 
per. Slias’ heavy tread jarred the silent room. 

“ What is it ? ” he asked when he was beside her. 

She led him towards the picture and held the candle 
close to the canvas. 

“ Look,” Agatha motioned towards the massive 
picture. The light fell full on Silas’ face as he stood 
there and looked before him. 

Agatha watched keenly the change in his expres- 
sion. At first it was curiosity at what she was show- 
ing him — then the interest came into his face as he 
studied it carefully. A smile hovered about the cor- 
ners of his mouth as the face in the picture became 
familiar to him. 

He stood perfectly quiet for a moment, and then 
the lines of his face deepened. Suddenly a look of 
age crept over his features, settling into an expres- 
sion of utter horror. 


342 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


His hands went up to his face, and closed over his 
eyes, shutting out the picture. 

“ My God, Agatha,” his voice shook violently. 

She stood silently before him, her face had grown 
grey. 

“ That is why you fled from me at the cave, 
to-day.” 

She nodded her head slowly. 

66 It was the rings, I see — the odd familiarity of 
the place — the white columns of the house — the little 
girl with the clover blossoms — Ah, Agatha.” 

He rushed towards her and threw his arms madly 
about her. 

“ She was not my sister though.” A wild gasp 
of joy came from his lips. 

“ But there is no certainty.” 

She spoke calmly and slowly. Each word came 
from her as if she were weighing its effect — its full 
meaning. “ My brother and my cousin were stolen 
away from us when they were little boys. The only 
clue that we had was the rings. You have them. 
But which of you is my brother ? ” 

“ But your father. He must know.” 

“ Ah, but I am not certain of that. He is old 
343 


HEART OF 


THE 


HOPE 


and may have forgotten. My God, Silas, the doubt 
will kill me. If Nathan ” 

Silas grasped her arm quickly. 

“ Come — quick, he is dying. God forgive me. I 
had forgotten him.” 

He hurried from the room* Agatha closely fol- 
lowing. 


VI 


THE small space in front of the tent was lighted 
with candles and a large glass lamp which Hester 
had brought from the house. 

Mr. Windom had gone to the cave, when Agatha 
had told him the men were there, and had sat there, 
quietly talking to Silas. He had made up his mind 
fully not to let the excitement of the moment, or any 
false hopes lead him to the rash conclusion that these 
two men were his son and nephew. 

He had asked Silas to tell him of his youth, noting 
the characteristics of the young man as he talked. 
In putting together the different memories Silas gave 
him of their childhood, he gradually became con- 
vinced that Agatha’s surmise was true. He had 
called to Hester to go to the Fort and find a surgeon 
if possible, and then sat down beside Nathan watch- 
ing him in his delirium. 

When Hester returned with the surgeon, Silas 
went to the house to find Agatha and to bring some 
things that the surgeon needed. 

345 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“ I do not think anything will save him but the 
amputation of this arm,” Silas and Agatha heard 
the surgeon say as they came up to the cave. 

The man was holding the lamp close to Nathan 
and examining him carefully. 

“ The wound is in a dreadful condition,” the man 
continued. “ Why has it not been attended to be- 
fore? It must be old.” 

He raised his head inquiringly and looked about 
him at the pale, distressed faces. No one answered. 
No sound but Nathan’s continued moaning broke the 
still night. He recognised no one now, having passed 
into a dull, unconscious state. 

The doctor looked towards Mr. Windom for his an- 
swer. The old man’s face was steadily changing as 
he looked upon the dying boy, and the light was 
going out of his eyes. At the moment that he rec- 
ognised Nathan as his son, the sick man’s identity 
as one of the Northern spies became equally plain. 
In the excitement of finding him he had asked no 
questions. But now with the agony of fear that the 
boy would die came the realisation that even if he 
should live by some miracle duty to the flag would 
oblige his father to denounce him to the Confederates. 

34>6 


THE 


HEART OF 


HOPE 


This short-lived hope had come like a flash of light- 
ning, illuminating the scene for a moment, then leav- 
ing everything blacker than before. 

He raised his head wearily, and looked at the 
doctor. 

“ Do what you can,” he said. “ For God’s sake 
try to save him.” 

His voice broke into a sob as he spoke. His face 
as he looked at Nathan again wore an expression of 
utter hopelessness. 

The surgeon turned to Agatha, and asked for 
bandages and a basin of water. She drew a chair 
near to him and placed the necessary articles upon 
it. He then opened the black case which he had 
brought with him and began selecting the keen 
blades. 

The candles flickered in the soft breeze that had 
sprung up and the light trembled across the instru- 
ments. 

Agatha stood looking on the scene quietly. Every 
now and then a tremor passed over her, shaking her 
whole body. 

“ Have you any chloroform in the house? ” the 
surgeon asked her. 


347 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


44 No; there is none in the town,” she answered. 

44 It would help me a good deal in keeping him 
quiet. He must be perfectly still while I perform 
the operation. Some one of you must hold his arm 
firmly. It will be necessary to keep him from bleed- 
ing as much as possible.” 

Silas came and stood beside the doctor. 

44 1 will do it,” he said steadily. 

He touched Mr. Windom gently on the arm, and 
motioned him to let him have the place beside Nathan. 
The old man stood up, and looked about blindly. 
The meaning of everything seemed to be slipping 
from him. Agatha tried to rouse him. 44 Father,” 
she said, 44 do you know that the town has surren- 
dered?” He looked at her dully, then his face 
brightened. 44 Thank God,” he said. 44 Then my 
boy can die in peace.” 

The surgeon called sharply to him to bring the 
lamp so that the light would fall upon Nathan’s arm. 
Agatha went out and walked a little way further 
down the hill. She knelt down in the long, dry 
grass, and lifted her face to the heavens. The un- 
fathomable depth above her was full of a sombre calm. 
The stars shed a dim glow into the limitless space. 

348 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


The peace of another world came gently down to her, 
and an all-embracing love seemed to speak to her out 
of the heavens. She wondered if the spirit of her 
mother — the mother she had never known — had come 
to her in this time of greatest sorrow, and was com- 
forting her. The tears ran slowly down her cheeks, 
the tears of joy in the knowledge and belief that a 
higher power was watching over, and taking care of 
her. 

The soft touch of a rough hand came upon her 
as she knelt there. It was Hester. 

“ Is yer cryin’ ober heah all by yerself , honey ? ” 

The old woman’s voice was full of sympathy. The 
drawling tones sounded sweet to Agatha. She 
turned to the negro woman and laid her head in 
her lap. 

“ Oh, Hester, do you know who they are? ” Agatha 
asked softly. 

“ Who yer talkin’ ’bout, missy? ” she asked. 

“ The men in the cave, Hester.” 

The old negro shook her head wonderingly. 

“ They are my brother and cousin, who were 
stolen away from us years ago. You remember, 
don’t you? ” 


349 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


44 You mean Massa Jordan and Edward? ” Hester 
asked. 

Agatha assented. 

44 Dat ain’ possible, Miss Agathy. Dey is been 
dead too long ago to talk ’bout,” she said incredu- 
lously. 46 Whut makes yer tink dat ? ” 

44 But I am not mistaken, Hester. We know it 
positively. Besides, Jeremiah ” 

Agatha stopped short. She raised her head from 
Hester’s lap, and gazed into the negro’s face. 

44 Hester, did you know Jeremiah was dead? A 
shell killed him when we were in the town. I had 
just gotten out of the buggy.” 

Events had crowded so thickly about Agatha 
that she had forgotten for the moment the loss of 
Jeremiah. Hester stood up and stared wildly at 
her. 

44 Don’t say it’s so, Miss Agathy. Dat ole nigger, 
Jeremiah, he ain’t dead, is he? ” 

Agatha did not answer. The two women stood 
clasped in each other’s arms, mingling their tears. 
Their common sorrow had brought them closer to- 
gether than ever before. A startled exclamation 
aroused Agatha. She looked towards the cave, and 
350 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

saw that the lamp had gone out. She ran towards 
the place, and saw the disaster. 

Her father stood upright in the centre of the ter- 
race, the lamp smashed into pieces at his feet. 

“ The birthmark — the birthmark,” he cried. 

The words came steadily from his lips, in a whis- 
per. The surgeon was calling excitedly for a 
light. 

Agatha seized the two candles that were burning 
near by, and kneeling down beside Nathan, held them 
close to the surgeon. Her determination saved her 
from swooning at the sight of so much blood. Her 
hands held the burning candles steadily and firmly. 
The hot wax trickled over her fingers continually, but 
she did not even feel it. Every few moments her eyes 
would lift to Nathan’s face, and as she looked once at 
his bared breast she saw a deep red mark across his 
heart. She knew now what had aroused her father. 
It was the birthmark which she and her brother had 
both borne. Silas was near her, and she leaned 
against him to steady herself. Once she lifted her 
face and looked into his eyes. There was nothing 
but dumb misery there. She felt that he had for- 
gotten his love for her in that for the dying man. 

351 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


At last the surgeon stood up. He had completed 
his work, and turning Nathan carefully on his side, 
he drew a sheet lightly across him. 

Silas and Agatha watched his face for some signs 
of hope. 

“ I have done my best for him,” he said. “ The 
morning will tell you the rest. He may live.” 

Picking up his satchel he left them and climbed 
slowly up the hill. 

Hester sat off to one side of the terrace staring 
at the scene with wide-open eyes. Mr. Windom had 
walked farther away from them and sat down, his 
head bowed in his hands. Silas and Agatha sat be- 
side the dying man, their hands clasped in each 
other’s. 

The moon, floating like some white, cool orb, passed 
over them, and disappeared into a bank of clouds that 
had risen out of the west. The candles burned low, 
and gradually went out. A rustling sound came 
from the trees near the cave, then the chirp of a bird, 
followed by many other tingling sounds and a misty 
grey pallor announced the dawn. 

Silas and Agatha looked at Nathan as the morning 
light grew brighter. He was perfectly still now. 

352 


THE HEART OF HOPE 

He had stopped breathing with the first ray of the 
coming day. 

“ Father,” Agatha called softly. 

The old man rose and came over to the couch. 

He knelt down beside Nathan, and laid his head 
upon the dead man’s breast. 

“ My son,” he said simply. 

Silas and Agatha raised their heads, and looked 
steadily into each other’s eyes. 

It was the look of love across the Valley of Death. 


353 



BOOK SEVEN 


Peace 



I 


THE Fourth of July dawned peacefully over the 
town nestling upon the hills. The mortars had 
finished their ceaseless work of many months. The 
terrific crashing noise, the shrill whistling of the Par- 
rott shells, the thundering echoes, reverberating down 
the valleys, had died away forever. 

A multitude of grey-coated men crawled out of the 
intrenchments. The haggard, careworn faces told 
too well of the long siege of suffering and dis- 
ease. Their sun-burned, matted hair, their ragged, 
torn clothing, the glitter of starvation in their eyes, 
made them look wild, almost barbaric. 

As the morning advanced, they formed into strag- 
gling companies and marched forward to meet the 
conquerors. They stacked their arms before the 
foe, laid down their hopes — gave over to them the 
town that had withstood fire and sword for so long a 
time. 

With the laying down of their arms, their spirit 
35 7 


THE 


HEART OF HOPE 


seemed to be broken. They knew that what they had 
been fighting for during the past two years had 
slipped from them. Nothing was left but to go back 
home, and take up a new life — a life for which they 
were unprepared. Sorrow and despair were waiting 
to meet them at the dear old gate where happiness 
before had only stood. 

The conquerors knew this also. It took the joy out 
of their success. As they marched into the deserted 
streets of the town, there was no cheering, no demon- 
stration over the victory. 

Their quiet sympathy and respect showed admira- 
tion for the foe who had withstood them so long. 

As the army marched up before the Court House, 
and stood beneath the grey clock tower which had 
told them the time of day across the hills, a man 
stepped out from the ranks and taking off his hat, 
gave a resounding cheer. 

The bluecoats turned away from him in silence. 
The sound seemed out of place. 

“ Three cheers for the gallant defenders of the 
town,” the man cried, and the whole army took up 
the shout heartily. 

The broad river — which had so peacefully swept by 
358 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


for months, without even a craft to disturb its quiet 
bosom — became suddenly alive with a gorgeous fleet. 

A small flag-boat led the procession, decorated with 
many banners and flags. Then came the entire fleet, 
the boats crowding each other, to reach the town into 
which they had so long thrown their fiery missiles. 
Despatch boats, rams, ironclads, hospitals and sani- 
tary barges, transports, all floated along in full holi- 
day attire; their decks were filled with soldiers and 
sailors, joyously waving their colours, and cheering 
as they came into the town. They laughed into the 
silent faces of the guns upon the hill. 

As the iron monsters were moved and anchored, the 
inspiring sound of martial music floated out on the 
air. 

With the fall of the town came the beginning of 
the end. 


359 


II 


AGATHA opened the hall door, and came out on the 
front porch. Everything was perfectly still, except 
the rustling leaves of the beech wood across the road. 

The sky was brilliant. The sun shone dazzlingly 
upon the dried, dead grass. The garden looked 
barren in the bright light. The dusty road was 
deserted, and afar off, where the Fort stood, the flag- 
staff had been cut down, and the red and white colours 
were seen there no more. 

Agatha passed down the walk slowly. She crossed 
the road and went through the shadowing beeches 
with a lagging step. She waited a moment in the 
cool shade and then walked out onto the brow of the 
hill. She was in her sanctuary again. 

She looked steadily before her listening to the 
sound of the rushing water beneath her. It was the 
same old theme that she had always heard, but now 
she understood its meaning. 

Three themes came to her now as in a fugue, — 
360 


THE 


HEART 


O F 


HOPE 


“Ruin, Desolation, Death”; each fought with the 
other for supremacy, each seemed to prevail, until the 
whole mingled into a steady rhythm. She listened 
intently. 

Out of it was coming another voice: sweet, pene- 
trating, gradually sounding above all else. The 
others had quieted now, forming only an accompani- 
ment, subdued by the beautiful melody. It was love. 
Love coming out of the depths of suffering. And 
with it came to Agatha a wonderful peace. 

She smiled upon the scene. All these years it had 
been teaching her, preparing her, and she had listened 
and learned without knowing it. It had opened her 
eyes, awakened her, when she had not known her real 
feelings. It was now showing her that out of all she 
had been through was to come to her the perfect 
happiness. 

She looked up suddenly as someone approached, 
an expression of quiet joy shining in her eyes. 

For it was Silas. 


THE END 


361 

















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